


The Other Side of the Court

by Makimono



Series: Of Seasons and Colors [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Chatting & Messaging, Developing Relationship, Drama & Romance, F/M, Female Protagonist, First Love, Jealousy, Karasuno's Manager, Love Triangles, Male-Female Friendship, POV First Person, Plans For The Future, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Reader-Insert, Some Humor, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 51
Words: 371,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8212204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makimono/pseuds/Makimono
Summary: Have you heard about me?
  Last October, I lost a dream I held so dear.My tears were never enough to describe the pain.I struggled to find a new vision.I couldn’t cope with people calling me names.At first, I was the worst.
  This October, once again I stand on the same court as before.I smile at those who vow me another future.Regardless the outcome, I know my parents will be so proud of me.
(Canon. Starts from S02E01 of the anime or chapter 72-77 of the manga.)





	1. The First Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is my very first fic on AO3!
> 
> I’ve always imagined a story where a new Karasuno manager is having a relationship with someone from the rival team. In this case, it’s her with Ushiwaka (and Tsukki!). She’s also an ex-volleyball player to make the plot more dramatic and connected later on.
> 
> I’ve had this Ushiwaka x Tsukki idea since the beginning of Season 2, but I just found out that they would have many moments together later on. Guess it’s meant to be. XD
> 
> Important!  
> \- English is not my native language. If you find some grammatical errors or typos, please point them out in the comment section, so I can fix and learn from it.  
> \- The language is safe. The characters are Japanese, thus they don’t speak f*ck or b*tch.  
> \- This fic’s main pairing(s) are Ushiwaka x Reader and Tsukki x Reader.  
> \- The characters tagged in the description are the ones who often make appearances.  
> \- I’m making this fic to be as canon as possible, but still focusing on heroine’s relationships with those two boys. There will be many new scenes that are connected to the main storyline.  
> \- And because this is canon, the story won’t follow ONLY the romance aspect, but also the friendships between the heroine and other characters.  
>  ~~\- I’ve only watched Haikyuu!! the anime and read the manga as far as the anime goes (I want to enjoy the anime before the manga, so I don’t want any spoiler :p). I do read Wikia for some references. Forgive me if I miss some details.~~ Not valid anymore.  
>  \- The story starts from S02E01 of the anime or chapter 72-77 of the manga. I write according to the anime, more than the manga, since it’s easier to project.  
> \- There will be a new summary on every new chapter.  
>   
> Info!  
> \- [F/N] is heroine's First Name. [L/N] is her Last Name. Honestly, I often feel uncomfortable reading too many of these [...], so I use them as little as possible.  
> \- She’s a strong-willed, direct, and humorous girl. She dares to speak up her mind, she doesn’t blush that easily around hot boys, and she likes to face palm: =_=  
> \- But of course, she has some bitter secrets from her past and real hardships (no Mary-Sue!).
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

_Have you heard about that accident in Miyagi prefecture?_

_There is a beautiful and talented young wing spiker._

_She comes from an athletic family._

_Both of her parents are retired professional volleyball players who are now coaching some powerhouse universities._

_When she was still in her first year of middle school, she had become a regular among all the second and third years._

_It was told that her school could only rank in the top sixteen at the prefecture's tournaments, but since she took a part, they always guaranteed a spot in the finals._

_It’s truly a beautiful fairy tale with a happy ending, isn’t it?_

_If you nod, then you’re wrong._

_The reason why it’s called a tale is because in reality, that perfection is only a fantasy._

_It merely doesn’t exist._

_In her senior year, her team once again went to the finals and the favor was on their side._

_They easily won and got chosen as Miyagi’s representative for the nationals._

_It was a joyful moment. Everyone was smiling. She was crying, overwhelmed by happiness, hugged by her friends._

_It was a perfect day. It should’ve been a flawless moment for her to enjoy._

_Until she was crossing a road on the way home and got hit by a car, driven by a drunkard._

_Her body flew and smashed against the rock solid asphalt. Her bones were fractured here and there, specifically her left shoulder._

_It was severe, the doctors said she was lucky enough to be alive. She should be grateful that her skull didn’t crack open nor did she die instantly on spot._

_But it’s as though God was kind enough to let her live with a consequence, which is that she can no longer play volleyball anymore._

_Can you imagine that?_

_Her entire life revolved around volleyball and just because of one single snap, it was taken away._

_She can’t be in the court ever again, unless if she wishes to ruin her shoulder even more than this._

_Without her for the nationals, her team immediately lost at the first round._

_If the suffering wasn’t enough, all of her scholarships from many prestigious high schools got pulled away._

_She practically became useless._

_The news went all over the national TV channels, newspapers, radios, and magazines._

_Long story short, she graduated from her middle school in solitude._

_Not many people know what happens to her now._ _Maybe she has moved to other town, maybe to other country._

_One thing for sure._

_Everyone calls her “the Cursed Princess”._

* * *

“Ah, the Cursed Princess is already here.”

Clearly, I’m not doing anything wrong.

I’m just quietly cleaning some yellow bottles under the sink just outside of the second gym of Karasuno High, yet Kei is heading toward me with a nasty smirk that makes the hot weather around us feels ten times worse than it should be. I really want to punch him right in the nose, but I don’t want to upset Sawamura or to get expelled from school. In short, lucky to him that I’m mature enough to know that violence is prohibited around here.

“Tsukki, I’ve told you so many times already! Don’t call her that!” Yamaguchi who’s hiding himself behind Kei starts to squeal.

“Why?” The unneeded expression on Kei’s face gets peskier. “What I’m saying is a fact. Don’t act like she doesn’t deserved to be called that way.”

Okay, enough.

I fill one of the bottles until it’s almost full and clutch it tightly with my right hand. In a swift motion, I sprint to Kei and throw the water inside at him. It spills mostly to his face and purple training shirt. I feel bad for Yamaguchi because some also go to his.

“What’s up, Kei? You want to be called a 'princess' too?” I say right after, with a victorious smile framing my thin lips.

Kei clicks his tongue and shifts to take off his plain black glasses. He glares angrily at me before starting to walk back to the changing room without a word. Of course, Yamaguchi follows him like a chick follows its mother.

I feel even more disturbed. Why is he the one who’s angry at me? I’m the one who should be angry at him. Do I even need to explain why?

This has been going on since the day I joined Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team as a manager. Most of them know who I am. The Cursed Princess from Miyagi. The injured ace. The ex-volleyball player who lost her dream in a second.

I’m getting used to all the name callings. They don’t hurt me anymore, but they do irritate me because it makes me remember about all that happened. I’m a human being, not a heartless one-dimensional character. I don’t yell hysterically. I just wish them to mute.

Obviously, same goes to Kei. Both him and Yamaguchi are my classmates. First year, class four, to be exact. Before I joined the volleyball club, I had never talked to him. And once I talked to him, he never left my side.

By that, I mean that he never stops bothering me. Ever.

He knows I hate it when he calls me “the Cursed Princess”, same as when Kageyama tells him that he hates to be called “The King”. Does he ever stop? No. Sawamura has told him to stop, Takeda has told him to stop. Does he ever stop? Fat chance.

So what I can do right now is to pay him back. If he annoys me, I’ll annoy him even more. So far it works, only to the “annoy him” part. I don’t even know if I can get to the “stop him”. It’s just his personality that is too wrong.

* * *

I enter the gym to see everyone sits in circles, exactly on the middle. Between them, stand Hinata and Kageyama. It doesn't take that long for those two to start telling everyone about what happened to them yesterday.

I didn’t join, but I knew that in the morning, they had a roadwork at Karasuno’s Heartbreak Hill or something alongside that name. As always, Hinata and Kageyama had their own little race. They ran as far as they could, until they accidentally arrived near Shiratorizawa, where they too accidentally met the ace of its boys’ volleyball team, named Ushijima Wakatoshi. Kageyama proceeded to request whether he could do some reconnaissance in Shiratorizawa. Weirdly enough, Ushijima agreed.

I scratch my nape. The story has just begun, yet I already have so many questions.

One, how far did Hinata and Kageyama run until they got into Shiratorizawa? The roadwork was at midday and they said that they arrived there in the afternoon. If I’m not mistaken, Shiratorizawa is four or five train stops before Karasuno. Are they even human?

Two, why would Ushijima agree on showing his fortress to his rivals? I’ve heard him for being super strong and somesuch, so is he looking down that much to the rest of us? He should be careful of these crows in front of me.

Hinata and Kageyama then explained how Shiratorizawa’s buildings were so gigantic and luxurious, compared to our dull Karasuno. How the boys’ volleyball team had a practice match with college students because they were too strong, thus no one else in Miyagi could beat them. Even if they wanted to practice with high schoolers, they had to search outside of the prefecture for opponents stronger or at least as strong as them.

Last but not least, how Ushijima was so confident, stating that his team would be strong no matter what would happen. That everyone in Miyagi—outside of his own league—was useless, besides Oikawa from Aoba Jousai who should’ve come to Shiratorizawa. As if that wasn’t enough, he called everyone else weak and their team as a “barren land” which couldn’t produce good saplings nor fruits.

Hang on. Why was he trying to be that poetic to people he just met? Even if he had to, couldn’t he choose any other form of wording that’s far from something related to _Harvest Moon_? Even I have to suppress my laughter. Seriously, thought he was fancier than that.

“So I told him that I’ll beat him and go to the nationals!” Hinata ends the conversation with a sentence that gains a mixed reaction. Some are amazed, some are mad because he just did a reckless thing, some are just being silent, but most of them are so motivated.

And evidently, there's Kei who has no definable expression on his face. He thinks that everything—besides himself—is dumb and redundant. I can't describe how much he angers me today.

“Then you just have to train hard. You have to beat Shiratorizawa and prove Ushijima wrong,” I speak up, taking all the attention from the whole gym.

“Much to my disagreement of Hinata and Kageyama's action… Do you know Ushiwaka?” Sugawara questions me.

“I know his name, I’m pretty sure I saw him once from far during a practice match around three years ago, but I’ve never talked to him,” I reply quickly. “I’m the same as you all.”

“Ah, I see…” Sugawara nods several times. “In all honesty, I do want to see him from close. I want to know how tall and big he is. So far we’ve only seen him from the news.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Hinata broadens both of his hands with excitement. “He’s so huge!”

Truth be told, I don’t remember much. The first and last time I saw him live was when I went to Shiratorizawa Junior High to have a practice match with its girls’ team. He was in the third year and I was in the first. I didn’t even know his name until some people mentioned it way later on.

He stood on the bleachers with some of his teammates—perhaps watching us play intently—but my vague memories revealed that he was quite average. Although granted, it’s not weird if he’s a giant now. Boys do grow way too fast once they hit their adolescence.

“But we’re lucky to have you here.” Sugawara beams at me. “I can’t imagine if you did go to Shiratorizawa and became their manager. They’d be even stronger than now.”

I snigger half-heartedly because of two reasons. One, can someone please explain the theory on how Shiratorizawa would be even stronger if I were there? What could I do for them? I guess Sugawara was saying random stuff to lighten my heart. He’s such a sweetheart.

Two, I’ve never told them this, but I did want to go there.

People must be under some sort of drugs if they don’t want to enter Shiratorizawa. Even if someone’s not doing any kinds of sports, it’s still the best choice of school in Miyagi. They have the best facilities, the best clubs, and it seems like the future is bright to whoever graduates from there.

“She’s laughing like that, but deep inside, she’s actually super sad because Shiratorizawa cancelled her scholarship," Kei insults me without any consideration. Just like usual.

“What?!” I scream in agony. “Shut your mouth, Kei!!!”

I don’t know if I’m that easily to be read or not, but even if I am, can’t Kei at least filter his choice of words? I seriously despise him the most.

* * *

I step out of the train stop near my house. I take out a gold-cased touchscreen phone from my shoulder bag to look at the time. It’s several minutes before eight PM. Since I became a manager, this has been a normal time for me to go home. The fastest I can get is five, though that’s very rare, especially when my team is training hard for something like today.

I tuck my phone back in the bag that I carry on my right shoulder while stepping forward, among only a few of people around. The town where I live is small, hence the nightlife is close to nothing. If I compare this to a big metropolitan city, the difference is literally akin to the heaven and earth. I too notice some boys and girls my age walking with their respective groups. I see some couples holding hands or giving each other a kiss on cheek. I can’t lie, everything is simply adorable.

After three or four minutes of walking, I stop in front of a big sporting goods store. I inspect their front displays. They have some gorgeous volleyball shoes. There’s this one with purple, blue, and white _ombré_. Sad to say, but I currently don’t carry enough money with me. If I did, I would instantly buy them. Right here, right now.

Not long after that, two cute girls are coming out of there. I don’t recognize their uniform—most likely they’re from an unknown school—but I recognize the stuff they’re carrying. Boxes of shoes, bags, and many more. I too hear them speaking about how they want to become a cool volleyball player, just so they can get closer to their beloved seniors.

What a motivation.

I continue to drag my feet, to only halt once more in front of a magazine stand that belongs to a small minimarket. One reason why. I see one unsealed magazine that attracts my attention.

 _Monthly Volleyball_.

If I’m not mistaken, some of the boys in my team were talking about this new release of the magazine. I remember the cover very well. They mentioned several well-known names getting coverage here. I’ve been wanting to check, but always forgot. I’m too busy taking care of other things, to even remember about something captivating like this.

I take the magazine out of its rack and hurriedly unfold it. Among the very first pages, I find yet another Oikawa’s unimportant profile. He’s the handsome setter and captain of Aoba Jousai’s boys’ volleyball team. His height is 184,3 centimeters. He weighs 72,3 kilograms. His favorite food is milk bread. His favorite quote is “if you're going to hit it, hit it until it breaks”.

Alright, who cares about this guy? Some girls do, but for sure I don’t belong in that circle.

I flip the pages more, in hope to find something worth to be read, but I don’t. I see too many commercials in various places, then I see news about volleyball players who are dating or seen hand-in-hand with each other. I barely read this magazine. I’ve always thought that they only write about volleyball-related news, but apparently also about volleyball players’ private life. Creepy.

Once I’m in the middle of the magazine, I finally find an interesting article. An article concerning someone that everyone just talked about today.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, together with his waist-up portrait.

He does look huge—not just because the after-effect of how his body fills the whole page. He’s wearing a gray sport jacket with a nametag “Japan” together with its flag on the left side of it. I somehow remember that three years ago, he was skinny and normal. Now he looks like a lion who's ready to devour the whole jungle.

I begin to read his profile very carefully. He’s the ace and captain of Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball team, but this article is specifically talking about him representing Japan for U19 World Championship—which explains his jacket. He’s the only representative from Tohoku region. That’s awesome. Without a doubt, he has many more achievements that none of us know yet.

“But seriously, though…” I sigh in between my words. “I can’t get enough of Ushijima’s eyebrows.”

“What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”

I jolt from the ground and abruptly close the magazine when I hear a baritone voice from behind. My heart now is beating so fast. I'm horrified. I want to run, but my feet freeze. I know there’s a zero chance for me to flee.

In a slow motion that seems like forever, I put the magazine back to its rack. With all I have, I heave and I rotate my body one hunred eighty degrees, just to discover what I’ve expected.

Ushijima Wakatoshi. In person. Wearing a violet short pant, white shirt, and white jacket that’s not zipped in the middle. Looking straight into my soul.

He is huge.

I always see Kei as a tall person and Azumane as a big person. Ushijima is the combination of both of them. His proportion is above average for someone below twenty. His hairstyle is neat with the color that’s resembling green olives. The problem here is his intimidating face because of his eyebrows’ shape—that’s why I commented about it. It’s so bold and straight, it can make a baby cries in an instance.

Gladly, I’m not a baby.

And what is he doing around here? From his outfit, I can tell that he’s in the middle of exercising. Jogging, I believe. Maybe running. Whatever that is, why during this time? Isn't he too tenacious?

“Hm?” He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Aren’t you [L/N] [F/N]?”

I try my best to act tough. This is the first time I’ve ever heard his voice and talk to him from close-up. It appears that I’m more overwhelmed that I thought I would be. I should’ve known better. He’s no longer a third year middle schooler from my memories. He’s a third year high schooler, ready to rule the world once he graduates from his textbook days.

Hang on. He’s still below twenty years old, isn’t he? Won’t that mean he will he grow more than this? I know he will and that’s extremely annoying and selfish at the same time. He should share some of those inches with Hinata or Nishinoya. Is it obnoxious for me to state that about my own clubmates? Nah, I’m just telling the truth.

“Hahaha. It’s not surprising if you know me as the Cursed Princess of Miyagi,” I finally respond, wishing upon the stars above that I don’t look odd or stumble upon my own words.

Promptly, Ushijima tilts his head to the right. “No. I know you as the ace and captain of your middle school’s team.”

Now that’s something. I don’t expect him to answer that way. Based on what Hinata and Kageyama told me this afternoon, I concluded that Ushijima is an inconsiderate human being. He spoke so indifferently, he didn’t care about other people’s feeling, he looked down at everyone else beside a chosen few, and many more bad traits I could possibly imagine. Yet right now, he’s just being a decent person. As decent as I wish everyone should be.

Well, then again, there’s a saying that no matter how bad a person is, they’ll always have a soft side.

“I thought Goshiki was lying when he said that you’re attending Karasuno.” He takes a good inspection at the black embroidered words on the left side of the plain white PE shirt that I always use for my club activity.

Goshiki. He must be talking about Goshiki Tsutomu, this super-excited black-haired guy from the boys’ volleyball team in my middle school. Of course I knew that he got a scholarship from Shiratorizawa. Stupid for him if he didn’t take it, but again, of course I knew that he did accept the opportunity with open arms.

“Yeah, I’m also the manager of the boys’ volleyball team,” I reveal more information.

“Yes. I was told,” he replies shortly. “Yesterday, I met these two people from your team.”

I’m having a sudden dilemma. I don’t think I want to give any comment about this matter. I don’t want to be disrespectful to Ushijima nor do I want add fuel to this little feud between him and duo Hinata slash Kageyama. As a manager, I have to support my team and protect them from any possible threat, not to bring even more conflict by speaking as loose as I please.

But if I have to choose side, that’ll be Hinata and Kageyama. No explanation needed.

“I don’t think we should talk too much about each other’s team, Ushijima-san,” I voice out what’s inside of my mind. “We’re rivals, you know. I also hope that you don’t tell anyone about this conversation. And I’m sorry about mocking your eyebrows, I was just being random.”

He goes silent, but his eyes are still riveted on me. With that straight expression he has, I can’t really tell what he’s thinking. I might’ve crossed a fine line and upset him, but that doesn’t really matter. It’s not like he’s the ace of Karasuno or that I meet him every day.

“What a waste.” His voice gets deeper than before. “I’ve never seen a young female volleyball player as good as you. You should’ve still enrolled to Shiratorizawa. Right now, our girls’ team is as worse as it can get.”

And that’s it.

Without chanting any farewell, he starts to jog fast to the left, while I start to walk slowly to the right. He goes back to I don’t know where, while I’m on my way back to my own house.

That was a very short conversation, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget. He’s actually being very nice. I’m sure he remembers my lovely nickname, but he didn’t call me by that, unlike many other people I’ve encountered along the way. Either he simply didn’t feel like it or that he genuinely appreciated me—nonetheless, I was pleased.

Just one question to no one, though. He said that it’s a waste for me not to enroll to Shiratorizawa. Even if I did go there, what would I become? Would there be a place that I really belong to? Where I could feel like the old and invincible me was still there? What a silly guy. He should’ve rephrased that sentence as “what a waste you had an accident” because I do feel the same.

Deep down, I always do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long additional tags that I can’t put in the title summary as it will look unprofessional:  
> \- everyone knows that both Tsukki and Ushiwaka are so in love with the heroine, but the three of them are being oblivious, except for Tsukki… slightly  
> \- because the heroine considers every boy as a friend  
> \- her father is pro-Tsukki, her mother is pro-Ushiwaka  
> UPDATE! November 12, 2016  
> I just found this [extension for Chrome](https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli) that can be used to replace every [F/N] or [L/N] to your own name. Personally, I haven’t tried it out, but you should to make the reading better! Note that it won’t work for the mobile version as it doesn’t support any extension.
> 
> UPDATE! January 27, 2017  
> And… I don’t know why I didn’t look for it sooner, but I found this [add-on for Mozilla](https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/foxreplace) to replace all the [F/N] and [L/N]. I’ve tried it on my Mozilla Waterfox for desktop and it works wonders. Sadly, it’s currently not compatible with the mobile version. :(
> 
> I’ll update this once the developer releases a new update about the mobile version (but don’t hope too much for Chrome).
> 
> * * *
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://maki-mono.tumblr.com/)  
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/itsmakimono/) (I’m active here!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this story, everyone! All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> * * *


	2. The Evil Wallflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei and I have an indescribable relationship. We fight a lot—mostly because of his mouth and how he treats me as a human being—but we always walk side by side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here!
> 
> This is a very fast update because I've written some chapters ahead.  
> Thank you for everyone who's given kudos, bookmarked, and subscribed for the past 4 days. Also shout-out to all the silent readers!  
> I'm so glad I can entertain you! :D
> 
> I just finished watching S03E01 several minutes ago (the hype was real smh).  
> I'm planning to update many chapters during the airing—maybe up to 2 chapters a week—as I know, there'll be a lot of you who'll fall in love even more with both Ushiwaka and Tsukki.
> 
> Important!  
> \- This chapter is full of Tsukki x Reader, to explain more about their relationship and backstory. For Ushiwaka's fans, please wait until next chapter.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

I love Friday. It’s better than Saturday or Sunday. It’s better than them combined.

I don’t know how many times I’ve said that in my whole life, but I do mean it. It’s the last day of the school week, the last day of listening to these monotone lessons, the last day of a hectic routine. True, there’ll be some homework, but at least I can do it in ease, while leaning back in my living room with a jar full of chocolate cookies and a glass of cold melon juice.

I gaze outside of the window on my left. There’s a line of desks between me and the actual window, hence I can only see this beautiful blue sky. I can tell that it’s burning out there. If I’m not mistaken, there are two classes who have a PE class now and I pity them. It’ll be so tiring and troublesome, though they can instantly go home without changing their uniform or shoes. Still, in my opinion, PE class is the best if it's early in the morning, like what my class has.

“[L/N], what are you looking at?”

I startle, before turning my head to the front, to this old male teacher who teaches Japanese history—as known as a useless subject that we have to learn anyway. The entire class is now staring at me, making me feel so bad for only enjoying the sky. What’s wrong with this world? Why can’t I even see the view outside? As far as I can remember, it’s created to be appreciated.

“Sorry, Sensei…” I murmur while putting a gloomy face. I don’t mean it. It’s just acting.

“And what’s the answer and explanation for number fourteen?”

I duck my head to observe a thick book on my desk in displeasure. Why doesn’t he leave me alone? I’ve apologized. Whatever that is, for sure I can’t find number fourteen. I can’t even see any question. Only descriptions after descriptions with some black and white pictures.

“What is it? You’re on the wrong page?” the teacher asks again. God, I wish he’d just move on. What’s difficult about that?

“Sorry, Sensei…” I apologize once more. It’s better to show a remorseful face like this than to answer with bunch of random words.

He sighs and finally, after what feels like forever, he lets go of this matter and focuses back on reading his boring book. He should’ve done that since five minutes ago. My reputation in this class is dropping because of him.

I reposition myself on my chair. I make my back and feet straighter, but when I look over my shoulder to my southwest, I find Kei staring at me. He supports his chin with his left palm and his elbow pivots on his desk—that’s typical him during class day. Our desks are diagonally close, so I know what he does and he knows what I do.

When he realizes that I notice his presence, he smiles gently. I feel something’s not okay and I’m right. It doesn’t take long for him to mouth three syllables, only for me.

_I. Di. Ot._

I pout, before throwing my head back to the front. Today I’m not going to take care of his bottle or towel. Kiyoko can do it for him. Above all, he doesn’t treat her like he treats me. He treats me like trash.

* * *

“You really are the Cursed Princess.”

Just a minute after the bell has rung, Kei’s already standing behind me and pulling my long high ponytail with his right hand. This is not the first time. Since we got a little bit “closer”, he’s always abusing me by pulling my hair. He doesn’t touch me aggressively in any other way. Only through this way. Sure it doesn’t hurt, but I don’t see the purpose of doing it, other than to upset me.

I did try to have other hairstyles, but it didn’t make a damn difference. I did a bun style, but he untangled it apart and it became messier. I did a braided style, but then it got easier for him to pull. My last option is too cut my hair short, which I’ll never do. I’ve grown this waist-length straight black hair for years. Even if someone pays me a million yen to get this cut, I will still refuse.

“Kei!” I slap his right hand, but that doesn’t make him stop. This is so infuriating. Lately, I’ve been experiencing hair loss and I believe it’s all Kei’s fault.

“What’s wrong? Maybe pulling your hair can make you luckier, you know…” He grins widely like a pervert. Seriously, does he have some sort of hair fetish?

“Stop it!!! You’re damaging my hair!!!” I stab my fingernails on the back of his hand. That’s when he stops.

I turn around from my chair to see his somewhat sad face. He’s also rubbing the back of his right hand with his left palm. I click my tongue. He’s always like this. Hurting me, but when I pay him back, he’ll look like a lost cat.

“And stop playing the victim card!” I give him a great advice for his life. If it’s me, then it’s still okay because I know his rotten personality. Imagine if he’s working in a big company in the future? Will he bully his co-workers and get fired immediately? What a stupid boy.

I stand up from my chair and hang my white shoulder bag’s strap on my right shoulder. Kei’s still there, waiting for me, though he doesn’t rub his hand anymore. My bad. I should’ve pierced my nails deeper until they touched his bones.

I look at the back of the class, but I don’t see Yamaguchi there, so I question Kei, “Where’s Yamaguchi?”

“Toilet,” Kei answers lazily, without looking at me.

“Okay, let’s go.” I walk first, to the outside of the class. Kei follows me right after. His feet are so long, it doesn’t cost him any time to catch my step and to be exactly on my right.

We do have an indescribable relationship. We fight a lot—mostly because of his mouth and how he treats me as a human being—but we always walk side by side. As long as the time fits, as long as both of us don’t have any other duty, we’ll go to the cafetaria, club, and home together. We don’t go to the school together as Kei lives one train stop farther than me, but there are times when we’ll meet each other in the train. We'll say hello and sit next to each other.

When we began our new school year, we didn’t talk to each other. I knew his last name and surely, he knew mine. I always saw him being together with Yamaguchi, but I didn’t know that those two would eventually join the volleyball club. Then in the second week, I applied to become a manager. Everyone but Hinata knew who I was, but they didn’t mention anything about that. They respected me.

Except Kei. For the first three days, we still didn’t talk much, but out of nowhere, he began to call me “the Cursed Princess”—obviously, without my consent—which then turned into “[F/N], the Cursed Princess”. I got insulted and repaid back by calling him “Kei, the Evil Wallflower”. The rest was history.

We are friends now, but that wasn’t a pleasant start. I wish everyone knew because some think that we’re childhood friends, long time couples, or something like that. Me and Kei being together for that long? That’s mental breaking. I’d pat myself on the back if I could survive.

I don’t have any other real friends in my class and neither does Kei nor Yamaguchi. The three of us only have each other. I have my own reasons, Yamaguchi’s too passive, but if it’s Kei, it’s just because of his bad personality. He doesn’t even respond well to people who greet him a good morning.

To think of it, I’m actually pathetic. If I call Kei and Yamaguchi as two my “real friends”, what about those who are just my acquaintances? Best friends? Well, at least I do think of Yamaguchi as a really nice person, with a tender personality. Not like this big blond wall beside me.

* * *

I enter the boys’ volleyball’s manager’s clubroom to see Kiyoko being there without glasses, since she’s in the middle of changing her school uniform into her PE uniform. Sometimes she’d tie her hair up like what I like to do, but probably not today. I think she only does it whenever it’s getting too hot or messy out there.

“Good afternoon, Kiyoko-senpai,” I greet the lady.

“Oh, good afternoon,” she greets me back with a perfect angle. Her face, her body, her hair, her movements. She can’t be more beautiful than this as it can be too dangerous for herself. She can get kidnapped by bandits.

“Anyway, I’m going to print the posters tomorrow,” she says while smiling attractively.

It’s been a long talk that our club is looking for a new manager to take over after Kiyoko graduates in less than a year. They got me, but they wanted to find one more, especially there are and there will be more club members than before. She can be in the first or second year, but it’s better if she’s still in the first year like me, so she can stay longer.

In last April, shortly after I joined, Kiyoko had made her own hand-drawn posters and went to distribute them to the whole school. Sadly, there was no response. She and I then decided that it’s better if we print good posters with a great design. Something that’ll catch people’s attention. Something that they won’t throw away instantly—we did see Kiyoko’s posters in the trashcans and it was heartbreaking to see her somewhat being dejected.

Several days ago, I told Kiyoko that I would make the design. Yesterday night, I was done and I sent the file to her, Ukai, and Takeda. They accepted with several praises of my “artistic talent”, although it was nothing. I even downloaded a ready-to-use template from the internet. Kiyoko then said that she’d print them because there’s a cheap print shop near her house.

“Thank you so much, Kiyoko-senpai.” I drop my shoulder bag in one of the doorless locker on the left side of the clubroom. Kiyoko may look like nothing but a fragile beauty, but everyone can really depend on her. I’m glad she’s still around when I become a manager. I can’t think of anyone else to mentor me.

“Oh yeah, have you told your parents about the away games?” Kiyoko asks another question.

“Yeah, yeah. I have.” I start to unbutton my top. “I won’t let them do the same thing to me again.”

Kiyoko giggles, which then reminds me of this sad tale.

Months ago, we had our very first practice match with Nekoma High. I’d never heard about that school before, but apparently it’s a powerhouse in Tokyo and they’d been longtime rivals with Karasuno High. For years, the two schools had lost contact due to reasons—until now, I don’t really know what. The only thing we thought about at that time was going there and defeating them.

Long story short, everything was planned. We would camp for two days and one night. It was still in Miyagi, but I was super thrilled. Having a fun night out with my friends, teacher, and coach? I didn’t care if there were ten boys and one girl. I said to myself that I would go.

But my family had to tear that dream apart. One of my many cousins got married around the same time, so I had to go to Kyushu for three days. End of the story, of a journey that never began.

Fortunately, after Interhigh preliminaries, Takeda announced that we’d have another meet-ups with Nekoma, plus some other powerhouses whose names I'd never heard either. On July 6th, we’re going for an away game for two days and one night. Then two weeks off. Then it continues as a full program of summer training camp for a whole week during summer holiday. Both will be held in Tokyo.

If my parents will break my plan again, I promise I’ll run from house with only a piece of underwear and pajama. Don’t take me that lightly.

* * *

“If anyone wants to refill their bottle, please tell me,” I offer my clubmates who just got their last water stop for the day. Both Kiyoko and I work together to give them bottles and towels. They’re super sweaty from playing six sets nonstop. In addition to that, summer is near, so it drains them even more.

“Oi.” Kei walks toward me, who stands near the net. “Towel.”

I promise myself hours ago that I won’t give him anything at all during club activity, but I don’t want to cause random problems. So far, he’s only hurt me twice—which actually sounds pretty masochist of me. If we were alone, then I would completely ignore him.

“Here.” Still, I hurl one of the towels that I carry at his body. I don’t want to be kind and give it lightly.

Kei catches the towel with his left hand, but his right hand is now moving to my ponytail and pulling it up. As expected. Can he be more creative than this? Regardless, I won’t be happy.

“Can you show some manners, dear the Cursed Princess?” he asks with a nasty tone.

“Go ask that to yourself, dear lazy-bones!” I glare at him.

“So I’m the lazy one, although it's you who don't want to do your towel-and-drink-offering job properly?”

“Drink-offering job? What am I? A geisha?”

“A geisha? With ‘that’?” Kei gives an emphasis on “that” while mockingly looking at my face.

“What?! Don’t talk as if you’re that handsome!” I too give emphasis on my “that”.

“Excuse me.” I feel a very strong grip on my right shoulder. “Can the two of you calm down?”

I tilt my head to see a dangerous Sawamura creeping beside me and Kei. I instantly run away to a random direction, while Kei is walking to the opposite. So far, I’ve only seen Sawamura lecturing the boys, not me, but I know it can happen soon if I keep being close to Kei. I don't want him to, because it'll be super long and scary.

One time, Ennoshita lost the gym’s key and got lectured for almost an hour in front of the gym’s door and the whole club. Later, the boys found the key under the locker in their clubroom, but instead of being relieved, Ennoshita got another lecture for around thirty minutes. Those who laughed—like Kei, Hinata, Kageyama, and Nishinoya—got their own private lecture. It was so bizarre, bothersome, but comical at the same time.

“Anyway, guys. Can I have a moment? Please gather in front of me,” Takeda—who’s been sitting cross-legged on the sideline of this gym—suddenly raises his voice. Ukai sits on his right, nodding several times. I don’t have to think twice to know that they want to tell us something quite important.

Everyone—including the managers—walk closer and sit down on the floor, facing them. I choose to sit behind Kiyoko who sits next to Azumane. Kei’s on the other side of the row, therefore, my hair is free from danger.

“Regarding our away games in Tokyo… For now, it’s planned for next month. We’ll need permission from your parents or guardians, so I’ll give you the form for that later on,” Takeda begins to speak. “We’ve gotten permission from the school as well.”

I joyfully smile and nod and just be happy. I see the others—besides Kei—do the same. Though Kiyoko herself just stays quiet. She’s too classy to do weird things like us.

“But you know that…” Takeda stops a little bit before he continues, “…you have final exams next month, right?”

Silent.

With everybody staring at the usual suspects who look stoned, named Hinata, Kageyama, Nishinoya, and Tanaka. We all know that those four are so bad in academics. I honestly think it was a fluke that Nishinoya and Tanaka were able to move to the second grade. Karasuno’s passing grade is forty and they always get as narrow as forty-two or forty-four or forty itself.

“So… I think you know what I’m talking about…” Takeda continues, voice getting more and more hollow.

Ah. Great.

I’m pretty smart, so why am I also nervous? Is this the power of a teacher? Or maybe I’m still traumatized over that history teacher this morning?

“If you fail any subjects, the supplementary classes will be held on that weekend, which means you won’t be able to go to the away games,” Takeda finishes his sentence fast and there we go.

Hinata yells here and there, begging everyone for help, asking whether he could be granted a privilege from the vice-principle.

Nishinoya and Tanaka run here and there, begging everyone for help, thinking whether they could run away from reality.

And Kageyama is still being a stone. A very dead stone that’s already a dead object.

This is indeed amusing to watch, but I don’t want to laugh. I don’t want them to think bad of me or that I’m an arrogant and uncaring person. I am not. Really. Just sometimes I do laugh at them. What can I do about that?

I rise from the floor and notice Kei who’s just idling in between this chaos. He grins so widely without having any concern whatsoever. I believe he’s actually a sadist. That really shows every time he sees someone being miserable. Maybe he’ll also smile when he sees a kitten being stabbed.

“Anyway, why don’t you just try hard and not fail the exam?” Kei advices Hinata before heading toward me. He’s as fast as light, thanks to his super long legs.

“What?” I widen my eyes, already in a defensive stance. I know he’s going to do something weird to me again.

But far from my prediction, Kei grabs my right arm and drags me to the gym’s door. Without pulling my hair. Somehow, I feel pleased.

“Let’s go home,” he says.

“E-eh? What? Wait.” I try to push him away, but it’s futile. I can never win whenever he does this to me. He’s way stronger, no questions needed.

I take my time to look at Yamaguchi and give him a signal to come with us. Gladly, he sees me and knows.

“Good luck everyone!” Yamaguchi bows to I don’t know who and runs toward me.

I can’t be more grateful to Yamaguchi. I want to hug and buy him many flowers. All because he won’t leave me alone with only Kei.

* * *

I walk downhill from Karasuno to its nearest train station with Kei and Yamaguchi. More like Kei’s on the right of me and Yamaguchi’s on the right of him.

“It hurts…” I groan while stroking my right arm slowly with my left palm. Albeit being under the darkness and dim white streetlights, I can still see some red dots there. Without a doubt, they’re Kei’s fingerprints.

“At least I didn't pull your left arm.” Kei laughs.

How does he expect me to react? Laugh along? Say thank you? Bow forty-five degrees? One way or another, what he did was useless and hurtful. Wish I was strong enough to kick his butt.

“If only you weren't my friend, I would’ve killed you already…” I threaten him, but that makes him laugh even harder. I feel so small inside. Why doesn’t he take me serious? Maybe because he knows that no matter what, I’ll always lose. That makes me even smaller.

“I’m actually surprised that Kageyama’s grades are bad. He seems pretty smart," Yamaguchi starts off a new topic. I guess he’s already tired of the childish conversation between his two friends.

“He didn’t get accepted by Shiratorizawa. Did he tell you that?” I recall something that Kayegama’s told me a long time ago. I don’t know if he told Yamaguchi too.

“Hahaha. Yeah, he told me.” Yamaguchi laughs awkwardly. “Though Hinata’s grades don’t surprise me at all.”

“I’m sure volleyball is the only thing on his head,” Kei adds.

 _And what about the thing on your head?_ I want to question Kei, but I don’t want him to be raucous. We’ve moved on to a different topic, so let’s stay there or let's talk about something else that’s more important.

“Tsukishima!!!!!!!!!”

Kei, Yamaguchi, and I bounce from the ground as we hear Hinata screeching from our behind. We turn around to see him holding his bicycle, next to Kageyama who’s not stoned anymore. I’m so happy to see him having his life back.

“…san.”

“Eh?” I lift my eyebrows. Did Hinata just add honorific? I smell something fishy. I bet he’s going to ask Kei to teach him and Kageyama.

Hinata exhales a heavy breath before proceeding, “Please help us study.”

“Eh? I don’t want to,” Kei straightaway rejects. It’s so smooth, although I’ve anticipated that kind of answer. He doesn’t even want to study with me if I don’t pester him for the at least twelve hours, moreover Hinata or Kageyama who are less close to him.

Hinata wears this disheartened expression and that makes my heart melts. I can’t stand these kind of sad faces. I’m weak toward cute little things. Hinata is little and now he’s being cute.

“Just less than an hour each day is okay! Or… tell us how to study!” Hinata seems like he won’t give up at all. Even if Kei'll go home, he'll stay here until the next morning.

“Um, Hinata?” I speak up to gain Hinata’s attention. “Kei’s smarter than me in other subjects, but I can teach you some English…”

“Yeah.” Yamaguchi glances at Kei. “It wouldn’t hurt to help them for a little bit during before or after club.”

Kei goes silent for a moment. I have a very bad feeling about this.

“Wait, I don’t think it’s fair that you have the shrimp asking for the both of you.” Kei’s arms go akimbo and he grins at Kageyama. “What do you have to say, big guy?”

I face palm so hard. This is one example of Kei’s bad personality. How many times has he vexed people—especially me—today? And this happens for every single day. I’m exhausted for experiencing and seeing it.

“Please teach us.” Yet, I hear Kageyama asking, though very softly. I would’ve not done the same. I wouldn’t let Kei toy around more than that.

“Yes?” Kei demands more, as if he doesn’t hear that clearly. I take a glance at him and God, how he looks so satisfied. It must be good to be a sick person.

“Please teach us… to study.” And again, Kageyama gives Kei what he wants.

“Whatever,” I mumble. “I’m going home.”

Just after I turn around and walk one step ahead, Kei wraps his right hand around my neck, making me stop all at once. I want to cry. Can I just go home? I want to take a shower, eat my mother’s food, watch some videos, play some games, and sleep.

“I don’t think I can hear you,” Kei goes on and on.

I huff, almost going crazy. Have I ever said that I love Friday? I want to take that back. I hate today. I hate Friday. I hate every day. I hate Kei.


	3. An Exhausting Wedding Party pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As I step forward, I feel a big hand seizing my right palm. I curse to myself. I don’t have to open my eyes to know who’s the owner of this strong grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Chapter 3 is here!
> 
> This will contain both Ushi and Tsukki.  
> They are fun to write, but super annoying, though it's very different from each other.  
> Tsukki is being annoying on purpose, while Ushiwaka is annoying by being super straightforward, yet so dense at the same time. XD
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Important!  
> \- I don't really have a clue about Japanese wedding after party or _nijikai_ , so forgive me if what I've written down below isn't too valid.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Are you ready?” I startle by the sound of my mother opening my bedroom’s door in such violence. I’d scream if it were my father because right now, I’m only wearing a pair of white lacy bra and underwear.

“It doesn’t look like I’m ready, does it?” I retort. My mother cracks a teasing laugh before she closes the door. A second later, I can hear her stepping downstairs since this room is built on the second floor of the house.

I exhale a short breath as I take a black sleeveless v-neck mini dress that lies on my tidy bed. We’re going to a wedding after party of my father’s old teammate during the time they played volleyball professionally more than fifteen years ago. In the morning, both of my parents have gone to the wedding ceremony, then they went back home to rest, and now the three of us will attend the after party—or more like, I’m left with no option to refuse to go with them.

From what I’ve known so far, my father’s friend is already fifty years old, but this will be his third wedding. His first wife passed away because of cancer or something like that, while he divorced his second. My parents don’t really know and of course, neither do I. I have never even met him before.

Several days prior to the wedding, my mother bought me this new dress to impress. It’s plain black without any glitters, but because of that, I adore the simplicity it gives. I have a pretty tall and—somehow—voluptuous body. I’m sure my figure will be exhibited more under this piece of fabric.

After I zip up the back of my dress with the majority of help from my left hand, I walk to a teak wood dressing table that’s located exactly on the right side of my wardrobe. I take a small narrow-teeth black plastic comb and groom my long hair. Today I’m going to let it loose. It’s a wedding party, so my usual ponytail will look less-formal and unattractive, especially with a dress like this.

I apply a dark pink lipstick—the only lipstick color that I have—and that’s it. No foundation, no eyeshadow, no mascara, no nothing. As someone who believes that less is more in fashion world, I feel happy with how minimalist I look. I do spray some good perfume as a final touch, but that doesn’t have anything to do with my appearance.

Once I’m content with everything, I walk to grab a white envelope clutch from the top of my bed. I’ve put my phone and wallet inside, so I’m ready to go. The last thing that I have to do right now is to wear good heels. I have three pairs that I use accordingly to the color of my top. Dark blue, purple, and black. I don’t think I want to wear black heels with black dress because it’ll be too monotone.

I go downstairs and sit on the floor, near the shoe rack right next to my house’s front door. I don’t see my parents around, but I can hear them screaming at each other in their own room. My father is popular for being clumsy and my mother is popular for dressing up like she wants to go to a carnival. I’m sure my father is getting angry at how long my mother applies her make-up and my mother is getting angry at how slow my father wears his clothes.

I’m so glad that I don’t have any siblings. This house will be too chaotic for me to handle that I’d rather have my own dorm or apartment.

I focus my eyes on my dark blue and purple heels. Both of them are lace-up, both of them are fancy, both of them are expensive. If I ask my parents, they’ll say “just wear whatever you want”, so I need to ask someone analytical enough.

I unbutton my clutch and take out my phone from the inside. I open my LINE and swap to my collection of chats. I see no less than two hundred chats from the volleyball club group chat. I’m sure it’s Hinata, Nishinoya, and Tanaka being random. I ignore them—I don’t even open the chat—but I do open the second chat, just below that group chat.

_Tsukishima Kei_

I can’t ask Kiyoko since everyone knows that she only opens her LINE once a year. I don’t want to ask on the group chat because they all are still being in their own world. I don’t really want to ask any other people. Kei is the last honest person that I can depend on. I hope he’ll reply fast.

_Me  
Kei?_

Much to my surprise, Kei reads my chat in a second. It’s six p.m., so probably right now he’s studying in his bedroom while listening to his new playlist of oldies music.

What a nerd.

_Kei  
What?_

I send six pictures of my heels, all from different angles.

 _ Me_  
_I’m going to a wedding party with my parents_  
_Which one is better for a black mini dress?_  
_Dark blue or purple?_

 _ Kei _  
_Why are you always being an idiot? Send me the picture of your dress as well -_-_  
_How am I supposed to know which one fits the most?_  
_Stupid_

I smile, albeit my right hand is squeezing my phone so tightly. Why? Just why Kei is so infuriating? Still, I stand up and head to this big square mirror on the wall just outside of my bathroom. I take a fast selfie there and send it to Kei.

But instead of a heart-warming reply, I get a bunch of lectures. Something that I expect from Sawamura and not Kei.

 _ Kei _  
_What is that?!_  
_What a cheap girl!_  
_Why are you wearing a dress that short? I can see your flat cleavage, idiot!_  
_Are you a female escort? Disgusting!_  
_I bet you want all of your father’s friends to see your panties?_  
_Not like anyone will notice you hahahaha_

Without thinking twice, I lock my phone. Yes, I only read Kei’s chat. No, I won’t reply just yet. Maybe by the time I’m at the party, I’ll open my phone to check the continuation of Kei’s preach. If I can’t control my wrath anymore, I’ll block his account and report it as abuse.

I shake my head. Never mind. Truly never mind. I’m going to wear the purple one. I won’t care anymore about Kei’s opinion.

* * *

We arrive at the party just a little bit more after seven p.m. It’s still in Miyagi prefecture, but pretty far from my house, as explained by its one-hour ride with car. It’s a big restaurant with an even bigger parking lot that fits more than thirty cars. My parents never told me that this guy is rich. I don’t even know about his job.

“Your friend is rich,” I voice my opinion as I walk behind my parents.

“Yes, he owns several volleyball training centers,” my mother answers without looking back.

Then of course.

My parents earn a lot from being volleyball coaches, but having several volleyball training centers can’t be underestimated as well. It must feel good for these people to stay in the same route since they were young.

“I think our friends will bring their children. You can go talk to them,” my father advices, just a minute before two doormen open the restaurant’s entrance for us and we step in.

The first thing that welcomes me is a popular romantic English song, sung live by an old woman. The second thing is how everyone stands up, until they look like a sea of people. This is literally an after party, where there are banquets of food for hundreds of people, yet less than ten chairs to use. Everyone does everything on their feet.

But honestly, it’s too crowded. I think my father’s friend should’ve booked a bigger restaurant. He should’ve made a better use of his bank account.

“Where’s the bride and the groom?” my father is lanky, yet he can’t really see what’s going on beyond two persons in front of him.

It doesn’t take that long for my parents to start their search. I immediately pull the bottom hem of my father’s suit. I have to be careful to not be lost, to not mess my hair, and to not bump my shoulder into someone. The last one is the most important because it can be savage.

We stop when we arrive at the end of the restaurant, where there’s a small stage covered by a red carpet. On the right of the stage, I see a female singer, together with her band that consists out of a drummer, pianist, and guitarist. On the middle of the stage, there’s a beautiful tiny woman in a white mini dress and a tall but average looking man in a black suit. I don’t have to ask anyone to know that those two are the bride and the groom.

“Ah, Eiji and Haruka!” the groom stands up from his seat and calls my parents’ name so loudly. Without telling his new wife, he walks down the stage and closer to us.

“Congratulations on your wedding, Katsuo-chan!” my mother says heartily with a small laugh.

“Yeah, congratulations! Your wife’s too good for someone like you,” my father adds.

“What the hell, Eiji?!”

I take another glimpse at the bride. She does look so gorgeous for a woman above forty years old. I’ve always thought of my mother as super beautiful and ageless, but this bride can compete side by side with her in ease. Will I be able to look like them once I grow older?

“Are you [F/N]-chan? Nice to meet you,” the groom called Katsuo greets me once he registers my existence.

“Ah, yes.” I bow deeply and politely. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

“Thank you.” Katsuo beams with happiness. Today is one of his best days, after all.

“[F/N], go eat something.” My mother turns to see me. “You said you’re hungry all the way here?”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, just go. We still want to talk a lot. Just be careful with your shoulder.”

“Okay.” Because even if I reject, I’ll get forced until I say yes. My rank is the lowest in this household.

* * *

I inspect every inch of this restaurant. I can see some of my parents’ friends that I know, but they’re together with either their wife, husband, or children. Of course I won’t greet and join them. I see some little kids running here and there, but of course I won’t play with them. Then I see some teenagers my age, but they’re already grouping themselves. Maybe they’ve known each other since before, maybe they’re schoolmates, or maybe they’re family.

I feel so friendless. Wish my clubmates were here. I always have fun whenever they’re around. Should I just stand somewhere and play with my phone? But my parents will kill me if they know I don’t do what they tell me to do—which is to eat.

Near the middle of the restaurant, I see two pretty girls eating together in front of a round banquet table full of sushi. They’re short, but I can’t really tell whether they’re younger than me or no because I’m always the tallest among all of my girlfriends. One thing for sure, they seem approachable and nice.

I too hope that they won’t acknowledge me as the Cursed Princess, though I don’t think they will. As far as I know, none of my parents’ friends’ children play volleyball like I did. I’m ninety-nine percent positive that the only people who know me as the Cursed Princess in this restaurant are my parents’ friends. The youngsters won’t.

So I move both of my feet closer to them. At first, they don’t notice me, but it only takes an additional five-second for them to look at me and smile warmly. So I was right. They are approachable and nice and it doesn’t seem that they acknowledge me as the Cursed Princess.

“Oh, hello, Nee-san,” the one with a curly hair and chubbier face greets me first. The girl next to her—with a straight hair like mine—only keeps her smile on.

“Hello. Is it okay if I join?” I don’t care if they’re actually older than me, but they call me Nee-san. I just want to survive this party without my parents near me.

“Sure, sure!” the curly-haired bobs her head several times. She’s so cute like a newborn baby. If I were closer to her, I would pinch her cheeks until they hurt.

I avert my eyes to these glorious sushi, before I detect a stack of wrapped wood chopsticks. I guess I just have to directly eat the sushi in this position? But I’m just wondering, is this even clean? I bet there’s a lot of dust and bacteria from people coughing or sneezing. No. That shouldn't bother me. This is a free all-you-can-eat dinner for me.

Ah, I'm salivating. If I may, I would like to devour the entire table.

“Nee-san, are you someone’s friend or daughter?” the straight-haired girl suddenly asks a question, just when I want to take a pair of chopstick from the table.

“I’m the daughter of the groom’s friend,” I reply shortly.

“Oh. We’re the bride’s nieces.”

So they’re cousins? They don’t look alike, compared to me and some of my cousins who look like doppelgangers. Like only twenty to twenty-five percent of differences.

“Are you a college student?” the same straight-haired girl throws another question.

“No, I’m in the first year of my high school,” I respond less patiently than before. Will they still call me Nee-san? But more to that, can I eat now?

“Eh, we’re the same! Sorry for calling you Nee-san! It’s because you’re so tall!”

I laugh while shaking my head to indicate that it’s okay. This is not the first time for me. I’ve always had this kind of conversation every time I come to meet someone new.

So can I eat now? Can I tell them that I want to eat now?

“Spotted! That guy is walking toward us again!” the curly-haired abruptly squeaks.

And here we go. I can hear the sound of my respect for them shattering into shards.

Why almost all of the girls that I meet always talk about boys? It’s not deadly wrong, but please don’t be that hysterical over it. I seriously miss Kiyoko. She’s different than other girls. She only talks about important things. I don’t mind if someday she’ll tell me about her love story, because I know it won’t be our hot topic for every single day.

“Oh my God, isn’t he so handsome and tall?” the straight-haired speaks as if she just sees an angel falling from the heaven. I don’t know if I’m exaggerating or no, but I think she almost cries. Has she never encountered someone handsome and tall before?

“He’s so muscular! Is he in college?” the curly one is out of breath.

Wait, why?

“I think so! He doesn’t look like a high schooler, but I don’t think he’s a worker!”

“Boys in our school are so dull compared to someone like him!”

Okay. This is getting too much. Maybe I should just flee right now when these two girls are still mesmerized by I don’t know what. If later on they come to me and ask where I’ve been, I’ll just say that I get called by someone. Not like they’ll try find me if they already find a hot guy to flirt around with.

But I’m curious, so I turn my head over my shoulder and my heart stops. Now I know who these two girls are talking about. There won’t be anyone else.

It’s Ushijima Wakatoshi. Again.

I immediately throw my head back to the front. I think he sees me. Hang on. So what if he sees me? It’s not that he’ll come to me, right? But seriously, why is here? Out of all places, why does he have to be here? Why is he everywhere when I’m there? Why is Miyagi so small?

As I step forward, I feel a big hand seizing my right palm. I curse to myself. I don’t have to open my eyes to know who’s the owner of this strong grip. It’s so powerful, maybe Azumane’s is nothing—well, in all fairness, I don’t really know because I’ve never held hands with that weak-minded ace and I’m not planning to.

“Come with me.” I hear Ushijima pleads with his signature deep voice. I haven’t had the chance to reply because he instantly drags me out of this wilderness. I take a glance at those two girls and I can see them looking at us in awe.

Dear, I’m not entirely thrilled with this situation. Want to change role?

* * *

Ushijima brings me to one of the ends of the restaurant, near where the groom and bride are, though I can’t see them or parents. It’s emptier than other areas, but I still have no idea on why I’m here.

I stare at Ushijima who stands up straight to my right. True. He’s indeed very tall, muscular, and handsome. I consider it’s safe to say that he’s the perfect definition of a Japanese beauty, since his face screams those two words quite well. He wears this navy-colored suit which makes the color of his eyes and hair pop more than they should. His posture and even the way he looks at someone are mesmerizing. That said, I’m not shocked if people—regardless their genders and sexual orientations—are all crazy about him.

But I’m not crazy about him. I’m utterly bothered by his action, face, words, basically everything.

“So what’s wrong?” I ask, almost yelling so I can be heard under this crazy uproar. I can see an uneasiness on his face and I don’t mind knowing the reason.

“Sorry.” He pats his chest, maybe trying to remove some dust that I can’t see. “Some girls are halting me.”

“What do you mean?”

“They keep coming to me, asking me to join them, even these grown-up women…”

I roll my eyes, so obvious that he knows. “Then run away by yourself. Don’t drag me with you.”

“But my friends told me that I should stay next to a girl. They won’t ask if they know that I have a partner.”

That can work, but isn’t he being too innocent? I don’t expect this kind of ineptness from someone who talks without filter like him. I thought he was so cool, but he’s just a mere dork. I wish Hinata and Kageyama would know this.

So I snigger. “What can you do about that? Blame yourself.”

He looks at me confusedly and I swear, I’ve never met someone this dull before. Not that I wish to, but too late, it’s given to me now.

“You’re Ushijima Wakatoshi. Even if they don’t know who you are, you should always know yourself. Should I buy you a mirror?” I explain myself again.

“I don’t understand, but okay.”

I sigh. Like I care. Like I’ll explain until he gets what I mean.

“So why are you here?” I demand an answer for this question. I’m getting so sick of seeing Ushijima on my way. This has to stop. I can’t afford meeting him behind my clubmates’ back over and over again.

“The groom used to be my father’s teammate.”

“What?!” I lift my eyebrows in surprise. “So your father also played volleyball professionally and he knows mine?! Seriously, what is this?!”

He plainly shrugs. “Don’t know.”

I sigh again. I have a strong feeling that our fathers did play for the same team or at least knew each other back then. Somehow I’m already getting used of this coincidence. It’s considered as a joke now.

“Your father is [L/N] Eiji, the volleyball coach,” Ushijima states. His eyes travel back on me.

“Yeah… But why do you know so much about me?" I leer at him. "It’s creepy, okay?”

“I’ve been following you for the past three years.”

“What the hell, Ushijima-san?!” I step backward thrice. “Three years ago I was thirteen!"

He tilts his head to his side. “What about that?”

Super dense. I want to scream from the top of my lungs and warn humanity of how dense he is. He can be made into a cake that no one wants to eat. Unless if it’s a fudgy one.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about this. I guess my mind still lingers on that sushi that I haven’t tried.

“You were a good player, you were all over the news, so it’s not weird for someone like me to know about you,” Ushijima speaks up.

“If you’re going to say ‘what a waste, you should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa’, I’ll grab that sake bottle.” I point at a round table near us that’s full of alcoholic beverages. “And I’ll smash it into your head.”

“Hm? I wasn’t planning to say that.” He strokes his nape. Still oblivious that he has vexed me.

“Whatever.” My arms akimbo. “I’ll eat something, I’m starving.”

But just when I want to walk away, I see my parents from afar, heading slowly toward me with a middle-aged man that looks exactly like Ushijima. Tall, hunky, sharp-shaped eyebrows, but slightly chubbier. I don’t have to buffer that long to know that it’s Ushijima’s father.

Let me repeat that again.

Ushijima's father, walking together with both of my parents.

My guesses are always right. Forget volleyball. I should become a fortune teller or something similar to that. Maybe I had a crash accident because the world wants me to change my career.

“Ah, our children are there!” my mother shouts happily.

I’m getting fuzzy. Can’t I just eat my sushi? Can’t I just be left to my own devices?


	4. An Exhausting Wedding Party pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again he states an honest truth. Very honest that it pricks my heart. I was a strong and tall tree. I was on top of the world. I was cool. I was invisible. I was. I am no longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is here! I forgot that today is already Sunday as I was planning to update on Saturday! :o
> 
> This chapter will (I hope) explain Ushiwaka’s personality.  
> After researching and pondering a lot about him, I came up to a conclusion that he’ll be so obvious when he has a crush on someone, but he doesn’t even understand that he likes the person. He’ll be so clueless and ask a lot of help from his clubmates. That’s adorable~ XD
> 
> Important!  
> \- I have no idea about Utsui Takashi’s personality because it’s never explicitly explained (except that he’s a caring and sweet father), so I just create my own.  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

This is awkward, so let me try to elaborate the case.

Utsui Takashi.

My father met him around thirty years ago. They were teammates when they played professionally for Japan. Sadly, he got some injuries throughout his body that forced him to retire. He then got married to a rich lady, immediately had a son together, but only to divorce when the kid was only four or five years old. Utsui didn’t have any close family left—both of his parents passed away a long time ago—therefore, he went to America after a university offered him a coaching job with a good payment.

After he left, he never contacted my father anymore because he lost the phone number. They weren’t super close to each other, so it wasn’t an ultimatum. Moreover, there wasn’t fast internet or Skype during that time. Phone call from America to Japan could cost him a month worth of groceries.

Approximately two weeks ago, Utsui went back home for the first time in years, met the groom of this wedding, and got invited to the party today. He and my father saw each other again ten minutes ago, when the groom mentioned his existence. My father was beaming like he just found gold bars.

In all honesty, I do feel this instant, deep bond with Utsui. We both played volleyball, we both got injured, we both were forced to retire, but we both are still surrounded by it. If I have the time and nerve—as he appears to be very intimidating just like his son—I’ll talk privately to him. Perhaps near the end of this party, just before I have to leave.

But the real problem here is that isn’t there just a little bit too much “coincidences”?

Around a week ago, Hinata and Kageyama coincidentally ran until Shiratorizawa. They coincidentally stumbled upon Ushijima. The next day, I walked home and coincidentally met Ushijima. On the weekend, I coincidentally saw Ushijima again when I had to go to my father’s friend’s wedding after party. It also appears that—coincidentally—both of our fathers are old friends.

First thing first, when can I eat? I hope for the whole world to stop bothering me.

Second of all, why is Ushijima everywhere?

Third, what’s next? That we’re apparently switched during birth? That we’re reincarnations of soulmates from the eighteenth century? No, the former won’t happen. I take a glimpse at Utsui’s eyebrows and have to hold my laughter.

Stop it. I have to control my cheeky little mind.

Fourth, I feel so uncomfortable with this situation. Why do I have to keep encountering someone from Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball team? We’re bound to be rivals. Being close with Ushijima makes me feel so guilty toward my clubmates. The last time we met, I could easily forget because it was only for a good five or ten minutes. Now we’re literally “family friends”. How can I act normal afterward, whenever his name is mentioned?

“So hang on. Before everything, I don’t understand,” my father leads the conversation under this ceaseless English music. “Ushijima Wakatoshi is your son? What’s with the different surnames?”

“Oh, his mother’s side of family was richer than me, so I took their last name,” Utsui answers with this carefree attitude.

I frown. That’s a very rare case and quite an ill-mannered act toward Utsui. Even if someday I’ll marry a guy less fortunate than me, I won’t do that to respect him as a father of my children.

“And have you met Wakatoshi-kun before?” My father gazes at me and demands to know more. That curiosity can be beyond vexing.

I take a brief look at Ushijima who idles on my right. It doesn’t seem that he wants to reply for us.

“Um, no, not officially like this." I shake my head lightly. “But everyone knows him.”

“Oh yeah, I guess so! Hahaha!” Utsui cracks a somewhat conceited laugh.

I wait for a moment. I expect Ushijima or my parents to mention something like “doesn’t everybody know you as well?”, but that doesn’t happen. If Kei were here, he would. I don’t know why I’m thinking about that demon now.

I breathe a sigh of relief as Utsui and my parents proceed to talk to each other, instead of me. Then I look over my shoulder to see these glorious displays of sushi. Can I go now? I don’t know what’s going on between me and them. I just want to eat. Even a little piece means the world to me.

“Tou-san, Kaa-san, aren’t you going to eat?” I ask my parents simultaneously.

“What?! Don’t tell me you haven’t had anything?!” my mother shouts, as if it’s my fault. “Just go then! Wakatoshi-kun, please stay with her?”

“Okay,” Ushijima straightaway agrees.

Finally. I legitimately want to cry out of happiness. I don’t even care if I have to go side by side with Ushijima. I’ll dive every ocean and roam every mountain just to be able to put those chubby sushi inside of my mouth.

Damn, I’m salivating again.

* * *

Tuna, sea urchin, salmon, spicy salmon, halibut, mackerel, and many more. This is heaven on Earth.

I won’t instantly declare that sushi is my favorite because I basically love everything that’s savory or sweet, but I don’t mind eating them for every single meal. The good sushi are always expensive, that’s why I’m more than happy to be able to consume everything for free like right now. Can I also bring them home for tomorrow’s lunch? I’ll ask my parents later.

“You eat a lot.” Ushijima has been staring at me like I’m a treasure chest he just found, so no wonder if he notices.

“Go say that to yourself,” I pay him back in between eating my eight piece. He has had more than fifteen. His left hand moves the chopsticks at the speed of a hundred kilometers per hour. He chews barbarously faster than that.

To think of it, isn’t he somewhat the same as Kei, but less harsh? He says “you eat a lot”, while Kei says “you eat a lot like a starving pig, no wonder your stomach is like a lava land”. He’s quieter than Kei. I believe he won’t easily scream and call me stuff if I do something stupid, but he’ll give me a deep death glare. So basically, he’s more composed than Kei, but with the same unnecessary bluntness.

I’m depressed to think that I sort of have a magnet for people like them. Maybe I’m interesting in their eyes because of how vocal and cheerful I can be? Maybe they see me as their sister? I have no idea, but for sure I prefer none of Ushijima or Kei. I want kind, pleasant, and innocent people like Kiyoko, Yamaguchi, or Azumane. I want people who won’t stress me out and won’t easily criticize every tiny thing I do. Though sometimes I do the same to them.

I’m such a random girl.

“[L/N],” Ushijima calls my name properly for the first time ever.

I tilt my head to him, still enjoying my ninth piece of sushi. “Hm?”

“Why do you attend a normal school like Karasuno?” he questions.

“Oh? It’s the nearest from house. Only one train stop away.” I wave my chopsticks in the air as I swallow. “Did Goshiki say something to you?”

“About?”

“Me.”

Ushijima’s eyebrows furrow faintly—I know he tries to remember something—before he begins to speak again, “He told me that you go to Karasuno and you become the manager of the boys’ volleyball team. That’s it.”

“I see.” I take another sushi. This time it’s a slice of _kappa maki_ , which is just a plain cucumber roll. Then I deep it into some _shoyu_.

“Why do you become a manager? I thought you would be traumatized to be near volleyball.” Ushijima raises his masculine timbre again. His eyes are still locked on my face, but I’m already used to the antic.

“Because I love volleyball.” I grin widely. “What else?”

"Hm." Ushijima’s expression softens a bit, although still as straight as my hair. “I knew it since the beginning. You’re a very strong girl.”

“Hahaha, thank you. I’m flattered.” I grab another _kappa maki_ from the table, dip it into _shoyu_ , and drop it inside of my mouth. “I don’t know why you’re always praising me.”

“I’m not praising you. I’m just telling the truth.”

He tells the truth. Let me think of that while tasting this salty layer of _shoyu_.

Actually, he does tell the truth. He always tells the truth.

I stop chewing as I realize something.

If he’s being honest, then during the reconnaissance to Shiratorizawa, Hinata and Kageyama just misunderstood him. He praises both Oikawa and I, he calls us strong and amazing. Which in fact, we are—I was. Professionals can confirm it. Then he calls the others useless.

Maybe it was just his choice of words. If only he would say that Hinata, Kageyama, and the others were “still developing”, then I’m sure they would’ve not been that angry. Albeit, I’m not shocked if they would, nonetheless. That duo can’t think that far ahead. They’re kind of childish and too hypersensitive to begin with. That’s why someone like Kei can easily provoke them over nothing.

Ushijima has never wronged me on purpose. He says that it’s a waste that I couldn’t enroll to Shiratorizawa. That’s true. I’ve said this before and I say it again. No one in a rational mind wouldn’t want to go to Shiratorizawa. It’s the best school in Miyagi, maybe even in Tohoku.

“Ushijima-san, question?” I ask after I’ve swallowed everything in my mouth.

“Hm?”

“Do you consider me as a strong tree?” Every syllable leaves my mouth effortlessly.

Ushijima narrows his eyes. Maybe he realizes that this question has something to do with what he told Hinata and Kageyama, but what I get is nothing but a pair of earnest eyes.

“You were a strong and tall tree. You were on the top of the world, but you got chopped down by this sudden storm.”

Exactly. Once again he states an honest truth. Very honest that it pricks my heart. I was a strong and tall tree. I was on top of the world. I was cool. I was invisible. I was. I am no longer.

I clench on my chopsticks. Who would've thought that being next to Ushijima makes me miss volleyball? Not because he always talks about it, but because I want to know what will he say if I’m still capable to play. Will he praise me even more than this? Will he consider me stronger than Oikawa, even though we have a different gender? Getting all of these recognition from a star player like him feel so impactful. It’s worth it.

“About Interhigh—”

“Stop!” Our sweet moment is ruined when I cover my ears with both of my hands, even the tips my chopsticks touch my hair a bit. “Please don’t talk about each other’s team whenever we meet!”

He lifts his eyebrows before nodding slowly, but unsurely. I know he doesn't really understands how I feel, that’s why I’m the one who should control when to stop and when is okay to talk about a specific topic.

“But I didn’t intend to mention your team,” he states. “I wanted to ask, why didn’t I see you during Interhigh.”

I show a jittering smile. “Ushijima-san, why are you such a stalker?”

“Oh. Sorry?”

I snort, trying to suppress my sudden laughter. Why is he saying sorry with a questioning tone like that? Does he even know what “stalker” means?

My eyes move to the sushi in front of me. How many pieces have I had? I think it’s twelve, but maybe fourteen. It doesn’t matter. For sure now I’m full. Probably because Ushijima keeps asking me bunch of questions that in the end, my stomach warns my brain that I’ve had more than enough.

“I went to the Interhigh, but I was on the bleacher. Only one manager was allowed on the bench. It was my senpai,” I explain with eyes searching for a trashcan to throw these chopsticks away. “But I was wearing a hat. No one would notice I was there.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want the media to find me. They’re… horror.”

There’s a long pause before I hear a weak response, “I see.”

Does Ushijima even know about the pressure given by the media?

I don’t read _Monthly Volleyball_ that much, but I’ve always heard about Oikawa from my clubmates who do read the magazine. Barely about Ushijima. Maybe he has gotten a lot of interviews, but not as much as Oikawa. It doesn’t seem that he’s being interviewed or asked about his private life like Oikawa either. He only shows up when it’s official-related, like when he’s chosen as the representative for U19 World Championship. Essentially, it’s always good news, not like mine.

“Um, I want to throw away my chopsticks. Be right back,” I excuse myself before dashing to a stainless steel step trashcan that’s located on my southwest. It’s pretty far from my banquet table, which is great, considering people won’t have any appetite if they stand in front a trashcan and inhale the nasty smell.

I step open the trash can with my right heel and plunge my used-chopsticks in. I take my time to open the clutch that’s been hanging on my left shoulder for some time. I grab my phone while walking back to Ushijima and unlock it in one try with my right thumb.

I was expecting to see hundreds of chats from Kei, but what I find is more dreadful. There are eight missed calls from Kiyoko, who barely calls anyone if it’s not a critical condition. I feel like having a heart attack and I want to suicide for not checking my phone at all. Something serious must be happening to her.

“Ushijima-san, I’m going outside for a moment,” I tap Ushijima’s sturdy back and without waiting for a single word, I run away from there.

But obviously, Ushijima follows me. He’s one hundred percent a stalker. Other girls will weep in tears of happiness to be treated like this by him, but I’m utterly freaked out.

* * *

“Why are you following me?” Just after I arrive in front of the restaurant’s door, I stare at Ushijima who stands right behind me.

“Your mother wants me to be near you?” Again, he answers with this conflicted tone. Is he stating or asking something?

I exhale a long and heavy breath. “It’s okay, never mind. Just don’t say anything when I'm on a phone call, okay?”

He bobs his head like a cute puppy. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize that he’s far from this super ace image. He’s just an innocent and honest guy. Just like a little kid. Exactly that. A pure soul in a titan body.

I unlock my phone that has locked itself by the time I walk outside. I tap some options on the screen to call Kiyoko. Then I hold my phone close to my right ear. I keep hoping that everything’s okay.

“Hello?” I hear this sweet timbre that I miss so much. Thanks to those two cousins slash Ushijima’s fans that I saw just before.

“Kiyoko-senpai? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

I maybe worry too much because Kiyoko giggles from the other side.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Are you outside?” Kiyoko asks.

“Yeah. At my father’s friend’s wedding,” I give a complete answer. “So what’s wrong? You called me so many times.”

“It’s about our posters.”

“What about that?” I’m pretty nervous to hear about what’s going on. Don’t tell me that my design suddenly gets rejected by someone. The vice-principle maybe? But why?

“It’s the print shop.” Kiyoko’s voice trembles a little bit, but I feel so relieved. “Yesterday the print shop was closed, I didn’t know why. I thought maybe they just took a holiday. One or two hours ago, I went there again and apparently their machine was broken. I couldn't find any other that’s close and cheap.”

“Oh, it’s okay! I’m going to look for one when I’m home!”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll also try to find one.”

All of a sudden, I remember something.

“If I’m not mistaken, Kei has a cheap print shop near his house,” I say.

“Really? That’s great. I’ve asked almost everyone in the club, but there’s no good one near their house. I haven’t asked Tsukishima, hope he can help us.”

And I remember something else.

“Um, Senpai…" My grip gets tighter on my phone. "I can’t promise you to ask Kei to print them today. I’m sorry, I’m sort of… having a small quarrel with him…”

“Hahaha, again?” Kiyoko chuckles, it’s so lovely. “Okay then, but it’s better if we can do it today so tomorrow we can start looking for the new manager. We mustn’t waste any time.”

“Yes, Senpai. I'll try. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, [F/N]-chan. Have a great party. Tell me all about it tomorrow.”

Kiyoko ends the call first. She says ‘tell me all about it tomorrow’.

I glance at Ushijima who—of course—has been staring at me since the beginning of this short phone call. I don’t think I want to tell anything to anyone. Even if I’m asked, I’ll lie, I’ll say that it’s just a normal party. Nothing special happened as I stick close to my parents.

“I can help you." Ushijima walks closer to me. Thankfully, I don’t listen to my instinct that tells me to leap fifty meters back.

“With what?” I wonder. My head is going as high as it can be because Ushijima is just too tall. I think slightly taller than Kei, who’s already the tallest in our team.

“Students can print anything for free in Shiratorizawa’s library. We have special printers for poster, banner, and many more.” Ushijima shows how much of a stalker he is. Okay, he’s beside me, but he also listens closely to my conversation with Kiyoko. Only my nosy parents will do that.

“Thank you, but no need,” I refuse, but his expression doesn't change at all.

I'm glad he doesn't force his way into me.

I just don’t want to see him anymore. I don’t want to lower my clubmates’ dignity by getting help from their rival. I don’t want to owe him anything.

* * *

For the last hour of the party, I don’t have the time to create a private conversation with Utsui as I just hide behind my parents' back. I don't even talk anymore to Ushijima. I just know that his eyes are still sometimes on me and mine are sometimes on his, just because I feel like it.

Soon after, my father and mother have had their portion of dinner, they have talked to all of their friends, and they have had enough for today. It comes to an end. We have to go home.

After a small goodbye and a deep bow, I step away from Utsui and Ushijima. They won’t go home soon because Utsui still wants to spend time with the groom. They really are best friends, compared to him and my father. I don’t even think my father has a best friend, unless if my mother is counted. That’s pathetic.

Right after my father starts off our car’s engine, I grab my phone from my clutch. I haven’t checked on LINE, so I open the app to see zero message from Kei. There are only hundreds from the group chat—that I’m sure Kei won’t contribute at all—and some from the official accounts, sending me some promotions or unexciting news.

My right thumb taps on Kei’s chat, just to see all the sentences that I haven’t replied. I need to say something nice if I want to request a small help from him. I know him enough to understand his quirks.

 _Me   _  
_Kei? Are you there?  
_

Kei replies instantly. Guess he hasn’t slept yet. The time on the corner of my phone says that it’s almost ten p.m. Is he still studying? It’s not that I worry or what about the likes of him, but he doesn’t care at all about himself. He doesn’t eat nor rest well until his weight is almost the same as mine. I’m awed to see him survive up until this day.

 _ Kei _  
_Oh there you are_  
_How many uncles that you got?_

 _ Me  _  
_Kei stop it :’(_  
_Idk why you’re mad at me, I didn’t do anything wrong_  
_You’re always like this huh -_-  
_

I take a deep breath as I type my next word. This doesn’t truly come from my heart, but I have to if I want his help. He can be colder than the coldest winter if people don’t treat him well. Yamaguchi confirms.

 _Me  _  
_But sorry_

“[F/N],” my mother suddenly speaks, thus I look at my northwest, where she sits. “So, what do you think of Ushijima? You were with him all the time.”

“What about him?” I'm confused.

“He’s so handsome, strong, and tall, right? Even my students in college know him. He has a bright future.” My mother giggles. I can see her staring at me from the rearview mirror.

“Oh yeah, he is.” I look back at my phone, but Kei hasn’t replied yet. He hasn’t even read my chat. Is he really mad just because I wore a revealing outfit? What’s wrong with him acting like an old-fashioned great-grandfather? Even my parents don’t mind.

“Is that it? You don't think that his eyes were all on you?” I perceive a disappointing voice from my mother.

Oh, God, dear my beloved mother and father. Ushijima's eyes were on me all the time. I felt like he wanted to kidnap and put me inside of his refrigerator. It's super weird, I couldn't describe it with human words.

But I don't see that as any less than frightening, so I look back at my mother and asks, “What about that?”

“Ugh, you can be so boring…”

I don’t get it. What’s my mistake now? Why’s everything my mistake? Kei, then my mother. Seriously. Leave me alone.

“Hahaha, you think she will fall in love at the first sight with Ushijima? She won’t. She has someone else!” my father adds fuel to this conversation.

I roll my eyes because I finally get what my parents are implying. They’re always doing this. Back then they also tried to match me with the sons of their friends or their students from university. I have laid-back, but irritating and nosy parents.

“I’m not with Kei…” I mutter.

“Oh yeah, Kei! That tall blond guy who came to our house once!” my father exclaims as my mother nods in realization. “He’s good. I don’t mind if you’re being with him. You’re close to him, right?”

I don’t give any comment back since I’m so fed up with this topic. I have this for almost every day in school. Everyone thinks I date Kei. What a stupid rumor. Only our clubmates who get used to our relationship, simply because they want to understand more.

“I saw him caressing your cheek before he went home.” My mother smirks playfully.

I sigh heavily. “That’s normal. He likes to hug me from behind as well.”

“Kyaaa!!!” my mother dramatically squeals like a little brat who sees two adults kissing on TV for the first time. “That’s not normal! He likes you!”

“Yeah, also say that I like him, but I don’t. We’re friends,” I try to explain, but then I give up. “Ah, never mind. Think whatever you want.”

I let my mother laugh all by herself as I glance back at my phone. Still no sign of Kei reading my chat. Maybe he falls asleep already? Whatever that is, I hope tomorrow he’ll go back to being normal. I dislike it every time we fight over unimportant things like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, about Utsui who took his wife’s last name because she’s from a richer family, it does happen in some Asian cultures.  
> I have a friend whose father’s having that, but his mother’s family is very very very rich. They have a large family business or something like that.  
> Let’s say his father has $10 and his mother’s family has $1000000000 (I kid you not).
> 
> For some families, last name is very important for lineage, pride, business, luck (this I don’t understand) and if you realize, Ushijima’s family is very traditional. You can see it from their Japanese house and how his grandmother—I suppose—still wears kimono on a daily basis. :)


	5. Unlucky, but Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Tsukishima has this cold and distant aura around him, but who would’ve thought that he’s so plain to see when he likes someone?”_  
>    
>  _“This should be in the Guinness World Records!!! Who is that lucky lady?!”_  
> 
> 
> Today has been a roller coaster of luck. I was very much unlucky, then got lucky, then back to being unlucky, then lucky again. It goes into a circle of bizarreness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! First thing first, I want to thank everyone who’s been reading my thousands of words up until now!
> 
> And… the more I write, the more I realize that this fic will be super long. ;_;
> 
> I want to make it extremely well-paced for a better character development, especially when it’s canon and that our main characters aren’t very aware of each other's feeling. I want their process of falling in love to be slow, realistic, and romantic.
> 
> I hope everyone will hang in there with me (though from my personal experience and research, people seem to enjoy long story so much more than the short one).
> 
> Okay, without further ado…
> 
> Important!  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

I step on the front yard of Karasuno High with an intense level of bad mood and caution. I sense that today can be my unluckiest day of the year.

I had a nightmare. It was pretty foggy, but I remember a part where I couldn’t eat some free sushi because there was a tall white snowy mountain between us. When I woke up, I half-consciously interpreted that mountain as Ushijima. It did happen yesterday, didn’t it? I couldn’t enjoy my life to the fullest because of him—and my parents, and some other people.

I stretched my body up. It felt so pleasant, until I went to check my phone, just to see zero reply from Kei. I acted like a teenage who was crazily in love with someone, but I did hope to see his quirky words. Usually, he would reply our last chat in the next morning when he woke up. Is he dead or something?

After I was done with thinking about Kei, I stood up from my bed, only to be greeted by my heel smashing against the steel bed leg. It hurt so badly, but as a strong and independent female, I tried my best to muffle the sound of my scream. So actually I still whimpered. How could I prevent that? Even my father would cry.

Then I went to the bathroom and I saw two cockroaches having their intimate moment on the sink. That was brutal and mean. I went hysterical as I ran out of the bathroom. My parents who were in the dining room yelled back at me. Just like I had always known, everything’s my fault. At least they helped me kill the cockroaches because there was no way I would touch those things.

My mood was already low, but I had to have breakfast. Normally I would eat rice with some eggs or fish, but I wanted something else. I poured a cup of cornflakes with the same amount of milk into a small maroon ceramic bowl. I never liked my cereal to be soggy, so I instantly ate them, just to find out that the milk was spoiled.

I threw up directly in the bowl and my parents got so pissed, they called me disgusting. I explained what just happened, yet they blamed me for not checking the milk first. Right. Might as well I become the housewife and head of this family. Next time, my mother will burn our house from forgetting to turn our stove off and I’ll take the blame. Seriously.

Everything was good when I walked to the train station and rode to Karasuno. I got a seat near the door, so I could rest in solace. I thought I was going to stand up, then be pickpocketed or molested, but I was safe. Still, I had to be very aware of my surroundings. Dangers could come at the most unexpected time.

And now back to the present.

I exhale a long breath so many times on the way to my class. I see Hinata and Azumane walking alone while yawning loudly. I greet them, but we don’t start any morning conversation as I have something else to do. I have someone to talk to.

I feel relieved when I arrive in my classroom, simply because Kei is there, sitting at his desk with a phone on both hands. He sees me, but instead of being a proper human being, he immediately takes his headphones from a red handbag that hangs on the side of his table and wears them. Then he throws his head to face the window on his left.

Classic.

“Kei,” I call my Kei’s name very softly while putting my bag on my own desk. I walk closer to him so I can stand on his right. My palms are on his table.

I wait and wait. I act cute and super cute. It's futile. He won’t reply. He doesn’t even look at me.

I sigh. I’m not mad or confused or what because I know what he wants. I have to beg, bribe, and pester him until he’s contented. This isn’t the first time. This is maybe the sixth time for June only.

Last month, I accidently deleted his game’s save file. He was so upset and wouldn’t talk to me for two consecutive days. What I did to gain his “trust” back was to stay beside him, saying sorry until I myself was so sick of it. I also praised and took care of him more than usual.

“What’s wrong?” I turn my upper body around to see Yamaguchi behind me. Seems like he just arrived because I didn’t see him earlier.

“This guy is mad at me,” I tell.

Yamaguchi glances at Kei and back at me. “What’s the reason now?”

“Now”. It’s amazing and sad to know how everyone seems to consider my quarrel with Kei as something that’ll happen on a daily basis. Like the day and night cycle. Like the fact that every living being needs water to survive. I’m positive that these people will wonder more if we’re being calm and lovely to each other. Maybe they’ll see that as one of the first signs that the end of the world is coming close.

“Um, yesterday I wore this super tight dress to a party and he didn’t seem to like it that much. You know, he cares, then he doesn’t talk to you.”

Promptly, Yamaguchi tries to suppress his laughter by curling his lips, but fails miserably. “Hahaha, Tsukki! That’s so obvious!”

“What’s obvious?” I frown.

“Nothing.” Yamaguchi shakes his head fast, but his joyfulness still lingers. “Anyway, have you done the sociology homework? It was so complicated. I had to search endlessly from the internet.”

My heart stops. Sociology homework? The subject that’s being taught by that mentally disturbed teacher who will get super angry if someone sneezes when he talks?

Today is literally the worst day ever.

“Ah…” Yamaguchi breathes out when he realizes that I haven’t made anything.

I abruptly claw my life on Yamaguchi’s left shoulder. “Lend me yours!”

“Hahaha, okay. Don’t worry, you still have several hours to do it.”

“Oi.”

I tilt my head to Kei who’s bending his body diagonally toward me—his head almost touches my spine. He unzips his bag that’s hung on the left side of his desk and moves his hand rapidly inside, searching for something that I might have an idea about. It doesn’t take him that long to grab a thick green book and offer it to me. If only his eyes were on me and not to the white floor below, then this would’ve been perfect, like a scene straight out of a _shoujo_ manga with the gentle school prince as the love interest and a meek heroine as the main character. Only that both of us are unlike those types.

“Kei, thank you!” I accept Kei’s book with an open heart. “I love you the most, especially during time like this!”

“Tsk. Shut up.”

I laugh merrily. Perhaps today is not that bad, after all.

* * *

Sociology class is held right before the lunch break, so I have plenty of time to copy Kei and Yamaguchi’s homework. There are only ten questions, but with ten pages of answers. I’m smart enough to mix Kei's and Yamaguchi’s sentences with some additional contents. This way the teacher won’t know that I literally copy and paste from someone else. He’s the kind of teacher that will read every word written by his students. Trust me, everyone knows.

I’m done just before he enters our class—yes, I do write in between other classes. With a lot of prayers, I give my homework to him. He marks them fast and thankfully, he gives them back without any complaints. I’m saved, all gratitude goes to Kei and Yamaguchi.

Once the lunch break bell rings, I stand up from my chair and hop happily to Kei. It doesn’t seem that he ignores me, because he raises his head with eyes looking deeply at mine. I’m so glad that he has come back his usual self, without any extra effort and time. I wish the same thing would happen every single time we fight.

“Thank you!” I shout. Both of my palms rest on his desk. I always do this, don't I?

“How much that you got?” Kei asks while shoveling his pen and white out back into his black pencil case.

“Ninety-five.”

“Seriously?” Kei narrows his eyes, but with a wide grin to indicate that he’s not mad or what. “I got ninety-two.”

“Normally, I would be so proud of myself, but not this time. Thank you, Kei.” I don’t know how many times I’ve said thank you, but I can’t anger this guy twice. I don’t know how long he’ll get dejected if I say wrong things.

Kei puts back all of his belongings inside of his bag and takes out a thick brown-leathered wallet. Yamaguchi and the two of us will always go to the cafeteria together during lunch break. They actually bring their own food from home, but I don’t, since my mother is a very lazy and busy lady. I’m also too smart to wake up earlier and make my own lunch box if I can just buy one.

When we began to get closer, I asked them to accompany me. I never regret I did that. They’re super reliable because of their height. Their long hands can reach any food and pay to any cafeteria lady faster than average people. Also, my shoulder is saved. It’s killing several birds with one stone.

“Oh yeah, Kei, do you remember when you told me about this cheap print shop near your house?” I try my best to speak in my daily tone. I don’t want him to think that I’m only using him. Again, I don’t want to anger him.

“What about that?” Kei rises from his chair. He tucks his wallet on his trousers’ right pocket.

“Remember about the posters we want to make for recruiting a new manager? Yesterday Kiyoko-senpai called me, saying that she couldn’t print them because the print store near her house broke their machine,” I explain in a great detail. “So I remember that you have a cheap print store near your—”

“Are you asking me to do it?” Kei doesn’t let me finish my sentence. “No way. I don’t want to. It’s your job as a manager.”

I pout and whine like a kindergartner, “Kei! Please?”

“There’s no way I will bother myself to do what you have to do. Go ask all those uncles that you met yesterday in the party.” Kei displays his trademark smirk. It’s so annoying that I ball both of my fists, grit my teeth, and scowl as hard as I can.

Is this for real? Why is he still mad about that? I thought we were over it?

“Geeez! Never mind!” I exclaim before walking away quite fast. I hear he triumphs a satisfied laugh  and Yamaguchi questions what’s going on again. I don’t care. I won’t look back. I just want to be far away from this classroom and brood over my life in a secluded corner.

Just when I thought of him as a good person. Just when I said that I loved him when he was kind. Just when I praised him a lot. Just when I said thank you with the sincerest smile I have.

He’s such a sadist. He only cares about himself. This time, I’m the one who's mad. I'm the one who won't forgive.

* * *

“Hahaha, it’s okay. I don’t think Tsukishima will help us that easily.”

I bet my face is flatter than a rolled-out cookie dough. Is Kei happy with that kind of image? Is he okay with someone as adorable as Kiyoko to think that it’s not unusual for him to be unkind and reject us? If he is, then he should go to a psychiatrist.

I untie my hair before taking a small big-teeth blue comb from my bag that I put in one of the manager clubroom’s lockers—where I’m at now. I straighten my hair fast. There are some hairs falling, but this is a very common thing for me. When I feel that it’s smooth enough, I tie it again in a ponytail with the same elastic white tie.

“So you’re not talking anymore to him?” Kiyoko wears the glasses that she placed down for a moment because she had to change her top.

I sigh. “No.”

Because Kei is such an inhuman jerk. In the end, I went to the cafeteria alone without him or Yamaguchi and neither did they come to check. The cafetaria's situation was similar to a battlefield and I had to fight all by myself. It was so tragic and uncanny. For the past three months, I always got a hand and suddenly I was alone.

I came back to my classroom and sat alone at my desk. Yamaguchi did ask me to join him at Kei’s desk, but I rejected. I wasn’t mad at Yamaguchi, but I knew, Yamaguchi would always choose Kei over me. If I told him to sit with me and just ignore Kei, he wouldn’t do it. That’s just him.

“Tsukishima has this cold and distant aura around him, but who would’ve thought that he’s so plain to see when he likes someone?”

“What?! Kiyoko-senpai!” I yell in agony. “Not you too!”

Kiyoko giggles. “Sorry, I was just teasing you. Hahaha. Sorry, I knew you didn’t like it.”

I let Kiyoko go, because it’s her. If it were another person, I would tell them to hang themselves. I’m really not in the mood with this teasing-boyfriend-girlfriend thing. I really need to print these posters. Kiyoko and I mustn’t give up that easily.

I know there’s a way. Torono—the town where I live—might be small, but there should be many print stores scattered around. I did search on the internet, but I couldn’t find anything. I believe it’s because not many print shops would have their own websites. For God’s sake, they’re print shops, not three-star Michelin restaurants.

“I think the only way is too expand our budget. We even asked our parents, but they couldn’t help us,” Kiyoko speaks as she passes by me to the door.

“No, wait, Kiyoko-senpai.” I halt Kiyoko from going any further.

She looks at me and raises both of her thin eyebrows.

“There’s a way…” I smile optimistically. “But I have to call my parents for that.”

Kiyoko’s calm expression turns doubtful. “I thought your parents wouldn’t ever donate to us, unless if we manage to go to the nationals?”

I gulp. Yes, that’s correct, but that’s another story in which I don’t want to talk about right now.

“I will… try,” I murmur unclearly.

Kiyoko still looks doubtful for a few seconds, but then she replies with a cute smile. “Okay, tell me about that later. Also about your party. You haven't told me the complete version of that.”

I hope Kiyoko doesn’t see me sweat-dropping anything on my temples when she closes the clubroom’s door. I’ll tell her about the party and also about this phone call to my parents, but I will alter everything. I will tell double lies.

Once I’m sure that Kiyoko’s far, I take my phone from my bag. I look at the time. It’s almost four p.m. It’s actually useless to check because I know nothing about my parents’ work schedule. They’re bound by a contract of coaching only one powerhouse university, but sometimes they’re called to coach a training camp, sometimes a special group of people, sometimes a high school. Their schedule is so colorful that I don’t even know if they’ll go home for a week or no.

I click on my contact list and immediately call my father. He always picks up, not like my mother. I don’t know whether it’s because he’s less busy and professional or it’s just that he always brings his phone with him. I never ask.

“Hello?” My father greets me, together with this screeching background noise. There are vehicle horns, wind, some plastic bags, and many more. My best guess is that he’s walking outside somewhere.

“Tou-san, can you hear me?” I need to make sure first. I’ve had so many bad experiences of having phone calls with my parents when we too have bad connections. In the end they blame and anger me. As always.

“Yeah, what’s wrong? Did you get into a problem in school?” my father asks.

“No. Can you please ask Utsui-san for his son’s number?”

There’s a long and awkward pause before I hear a very loud and irksome laugh. I clench my fists. I have to control my emotion to not smash the phone on my right hand to the hard ground beneath.

“Wait, wait, wait. What? Say it again?” my father obviously teases me, much to his personal amusement. Even the densest person on earth can easily justify it from his tone.

“I won’t give you what you want,” I patently refuse, not planning on going back.

“No, I’m serious! Hahaha! Say it slowly. I only heard ‘Utsui’ and ‘his son’.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Why are you shy?”

“No.”

“Come—”

“Please ask Utsui-san to give me Ushijima Wakatoshi’s number!!!” At last, I lose my virtue.

Yet again, my father cracks a laugh, although this time isn’t as irritating as before. I don’t care anymore. I just want this to be over soon.

“For what? Are you going to flirt with him? I thought you weren’t interested in him?”

“I need to call him and ask for a help. It’s for printing posters—” I stop when I realize that I’m going to waste my time. “Tou-san, just ask it for me, okay? I’ll explain later when I’m home.”

“Are you sure?”

I roll my eyes clockwise in displeasure. “Tou-san, please. I beg you. I don’t have time to play around. This is very important for my club.”

“Is Kei there? Say hi to him from me.” Instead of replying about Ushijima’s phone number, my father talks about something irrelevant.

“No way. LINE me the number. Now. If Utsui doesn’t reply straightaway, also LINE me now. Bye.” I end the call before sitting down on a brown wooden chair which has been there, in front of me, since forever.

I’m so tired. Mostly mentally. Now I’ll use my brain to craft a new story to tell Kiyoko, while waiting for my father to get me Ushijima’s number. I hope he succeeds.

* * *

 _Tou-san _  
_[Sent a contact.]_  
_Here we go_  
_I told Takashi to tell Wakatoshi-kun that you’ll call him_  
_I’m such a reliable parent hahaha_  
_But don’t do anything reckless_  
_Take it slowly_  
_I don’t think he likes it aggressively_

I snigger. What is my father talking about? Why does it rhyme? And just when I want to reply, he sends me a new message.

 _ Tou-san _  
_“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,_  
_And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”_  
_\- William Shakespeare_  
_Do you understand?_  
_Meaning: don’t be in love with Wakatoshi-kun just because he’s good-looking and has a nice body_  
_Although I don’t mind if you marry him_  
_I don’t mind even more if it’s Kei, he’s my type_  
_DON’T TELL YOUR MOTHER, SHE’LL MISUNDERSTAND_

I can’t hold my laughter anymore. I’ve been waiting alone in the clubroom for almost five minutes and what I get is way more than what I need. It’s idiot, unrelated, but so hilarious. I hate my parents, but I also love them to hell. It’s such a conflicted feeling.

 _ Me_  
_Tou-san, you copied that quote from the internet_  
_But whatever_  
_Thanks  
_

I save Ushijima’s contact before closing the LINE chat between me and my father. I see some pop-up notifications of him giving me yet another funny messages, but I have to ignore it for now. I have to call Ushijima as soon as possible, moreover I’m already too late for my club activity. I don’t want Kiyoko to work hard all by herself without my help.

I take a deep breath and press on the call option on Ushijima’s contact info. I hold my phone close to my right ear when a random question pops on my mind. I know Utsui has told him that I’d contact him, but won’t he be having a club activity? He doesn’t seem to be the type of person who checks on his phone every minute. I don’t even think he has social media accounts. Well, maybe he has one for communication purpose, but he doesn’t gradually check on it.

I don’t know why I’m thinking so negatively about him. He’s a dork, maybe that’s why.

“Hello.”

I expand my eyes when Ushijima picks up. So he does pick up. I’m so thrilled and scared at the same time. Essentially, we know each other, but he’s still pretty creepy that I can’t really act completely normal.

“Hello, it’s [L/N],” I introduce myself, although I’m sure he knows already.

“Yes.”

“Are you busy, Ushijima-san? Am I bothering you?” I ask because I can’t hear any noise from his side, unlike what happened with my father.

“No, I’m in my dorm.”

So he lives in a dorm. I know Shiratorizawa provides dorms for their students, but I thought he would stay with his mother. Maybe she doesn’t live in Miyagi? Maybe they aren’t that close to each other? There are so many maybes, but I shouldn’t bother myself with that right now.

“Okay, so I'll just get to the point. Sorry, but apparently I need your help for printing posters… Um…” I buffer for a moment to think of a better sentence so Ushijima will understand. “My friends and I can’t find a cheap print shop near our area. This is urgent, so I need your help. I can't think of someone else… but only if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure.” Ushijima’s timbre is so monotone that I don’t know if he’s honestly willing to help or no.

“So—”

“Wakatoshi-kun, who are you calling?!” Out of nowhere, a very loud door-banging and an even louder tenor voice pierce my right ear. I’m sure it's a flashy and extrovert guy. Most likely Ushijima’s close friend since he could easily barge in like that.

“Ushijima-san, don’t say my name!” I warn before Ushijima replies anything.

“Your father?” Ushijima’s friend asks again. I can tell that he’s exactly beside Ushijima as I can hear his voice clearer and closer than before.

“No.”

“Who then? Wait, don’t tell me… A girl???”

“Yes.”

“What?! Wakatoshi-kun is finally having a phone call with a girl?! This should be in the Guinness World Records!!! Who is that lucky lady?!” Ushijima’s friend squeaks before laughing excitedly all by himself. He’s like a typhoon, while Ushijima is a calm ocean. I know why they befriend each other. It’s a balance for this planet and everyone around them.

“The daughter of my father’s friend.”

I’m disappointed at myself. I should’ve told Ushijima to not mention anything about me, instead of only my name. Seriously, big boy. Why can’t he think that far ahead?

“Ushijima-san, how will I send the file? Email? LINE?” I take a deep breath between my words. My voice is so loud because I’m afraid he can’t hear me that well.

There’s no reply. All that I get is Ushijima’s friend bombards the latter with so many questions about me. Who am I, how did we meet, how old am I, where do I go to school, and many more. I kind of understand because I’m sure Ushijima has never been that close to a girl before, but I’m so troubled, simply because I have something crucial to do.

“Ushijima-san?” I roar his name. Literally. I simply want to be heard by him.

“I’ll text you.”

“Oh. Okay, thank you.” I instantly respond and end the call between us. There’s no second wasted because I’m so done with his friend acting like a wild monkey from a mountain.

I only have to wait for a minute before a new text message comes in. It’s from Ushijima. He gives me his LINE ID. Again, I don’t waste any time to add and chat him.

 _ Me_  
_Ushijima-san?  
_

 

He reads and replies my chat in an instance. I guess he has kicked his friend out of his room? No, I don’t think he’ll ever do that to anyone. Probably he leaves his own room or goes to the bathroom. Why would I ponder hard about this? What matters the most is that right now he’s available and that’s pretty much it.

 _Ushijima _  
_Yes_

 _ Me_  
_Thank you so much, I’ll send the file after this because_ _I have to download it from my email first_  
_Is that possible?_  
_You can connect it to your laptop/printer, right?_

 _ Ushijima_  
_Yes_

 _ Me_  
_But are you really okay with this?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_?_  
_Yes?_

 _ Me_  
_Thank you!_  
_But I have several other requests, if I may?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Sure_

 _ Me_  
_Don’t tell anyone that you help me_  
_When you print them, please print them alone  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Why?_

 _ Me_  
_I can’t really explain now, but please?  
_

_Ushijima_   
_Okay_

 _ Me_  
_Also how will I take it………_  
_I’ll ask my father to pick it up from your school?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_No. I’ll bring it to your house_

I should be shocked that Ushijima wants to do that for me, but funnily, I’m more shocked to see him type more than one word. This is amazing. What a major leap in our newly-formed “friendship”.

 _Me_    
_Isn't that too far?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_It’s not._ _And I’ll go for a jog tonight_

Now I remember about how we met for the first time. He really was jogging for not that far—at least, according to him and himself only. Doesn’t he get a lot exercise back in school? I’m one hundred percent sure that Shiratorizawa drills their athletes to hell. If that doesn’t fulfil Ushijima then surely, all of his skills aren’t built without years of tenacity. I’m stupefied, I don’t know what else to say.

 _ Me _  
_Okay then_  
_Thank you so much!_  
_What time?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_7_  
_8_

I chuckle lightly. Why doesn't he write "maybe at seven or eight"? He's so stiff and weird. It's entertaining.

 _ Me_  
_I think my parents will be home by that time_  
_I’ll call them later, then I’ll chat you, alongside my address_  
_I have club activity now, I'm too late already  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Sure_

 _ Me_  
_Thank you!  
_

 

 _ Ushijima _  
_You’re welcome_

I read his last chat without giving any reply, then I move to phone’s home and press on my mail. I don’t have the file of my poster design in my phone's storage, so I have to download them from the email that I sent to Kiyoko several days ago. It’s still there in the sent box.

With this, my team’s posters are officially taken care of. Now the only thing left is how to explain to the others. I think I know what to tell them, but I have to act as natural as possible. Someone like Kei who knows me the most can easily read my façade if I mess up only a bit.

I stand up from the chair that I’ve occupied for the past ten minutes or so and head out of my clubroom. Today has been a roller coaster of luck. I was very much unlucky, then got lucky, then back to being unlucky, then lucky again. It goes into a circle of bizarreness. I have to make sure that I’ll be thoroughly lucky until this day ends. I'm sure I can do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^ Tendou is so precious. XD


	6. The Bad Day Finally Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again. This arm-wrapping technique again. He’s always doing this whenever I’m angry. Before, it did work. I thought he was feeling sorry and showing it through a non-verbal action. Now, I won’t jump into the same hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello everyone!
> 
> I don't know how to begin this chapter, so I'll just say:  
> After watching S0303 of Haikyuu!!, I can finally declare that I love Tsukki... ╥_╥  
> Previously, he kinda annoyed me and wasn't really shining in my eyes, but can't think like that anymore.
> 
> I hope you all will enjoy this chapter. To be honest, my heart was kyaaa-kyaaa by itself when I wrote this and that's pretty narcissistic of me... but whatever. :'(
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Good afternoon. Sorry, I’m late,” I excuse myself as I enter the second gym of Karasuno High. There aren’t many who notice my being because all of the twelve volleyball players that we have are having their usual six-on-six practice match. It’s such a perfect number. Everyone always has a chance to play.

And this is actually a lucky thing because I don’t have to explain the whole posters thing when everyone's aware of it. Unless if they ask. No, I doubt so if they will. They barely care about my management problems.

I find Kiyoko kneeling on one of the gym's sidelines while folding some white towels on top of a blue single chair, so I walk closer to her. I also see Ukai standing near the net, yelling at those who don’t give their maximum effort. Kei’s always one of them. I don’t know why he always looks so unmotivated to play volleyball. What a waste of his natural height.

“Kiyoko-senpai,” I call Kiyoko and she raises her head. It appears that she just realized I’m here. I should've shouted next time.

“How is it?” she straightaway asks.

I kneel on her left and take one of the towels to fold it in. “I called my father. He said that he’s going to print them. He’s paying as well.”

“Really?” Kiyoko shows this shocked expression, but without any sign of dubiety. “Ah. Maybe he feels bad for us? Hahaha. I’m so glad, nonetheless. Don’t forget to say thank you from all of us.”

I nod several times, much to my relief that Kiyoko doesn’t try to interrogate. “Yes, I did already. He said it’ll be done tonight. Tomorrow we can start to find a new manager.”

“That’s great. I’m so happy. I’ll tell Takeda-sensei if he comes later.”

I might smile to Kiyoko, but deep on my mind, I keep saying sorry for lying. On the other side, I'm satisfied with my pretty well-thought-out story. This way, I won’t be given any money for the printing cost—because in reality, I don’t have to pay Ushijima anything. It can be used for something else that’s more important for our club.

“Oh yeah, can you please refill their bottles? I’ll help after I’m done with the towels.” Kiyoko points her right index finger to me, so I look over my shoulder. There are some yellow bottles on the floor, directly behind Ukai.

“Sure,” I accept Kiyoko's request and I stand up, but just before I start to move my feet, I hear Sawamura scream my name, together with a ball that maneuvers fast toward me.

My instinct tells me to bend both of my knees down a bit and position my right arm exactly in front of my body. The ball hits where I want it to hit and it maneuvers back flawlessly to Kageyama who receives it with his hands. Sure, I can only use one arm because of my injury, but what I did was still a perfection.

“Nice receive!” I earn praises from all the boys, excluding Kei who—for some wicked reasons—only smirks at me. I’m so sick of him. Even Ukai praises me. Now I have to admit that I actually want Kei to praise me, just like the others.

Why's my brain having that kind of thought? It's nasty. I’m utterly disgusted by it.

I crack a dry laugh as a reply. This isn’t the first time I’ve received stray balls from those boys, but I’m still not used to them saying “nice receive” to me. I used to hear that every single day and suddenly I only hear that once a day, if it does happen. It’s a distressing transformation.

“[F/N]-chan, I’ve always wanted to ask this…” Kiyoko’s sweet voice attracts all of my attention back at her. “Doesn’t it hurt if you do that?”

“No. If it’s only with my right arm, it doesn’t really affect my left. If it’s with both hands, then of course it does. It also hurts a bit if I jump or run too hard. In short, I can’t put too much pressure on my left arm or whole body.” I tap my left shoulder joint slowly. “This is acting like a spoiled brat.”

Kiyoko muffles her laugh as she stands up while slightly patting her dusty skirt. I can tell that she’s done with the towels. She then slaps my back lightly before passing by me. I follow her. We have to refill the bottles before the owners have their water stop, which I know will happen soon.

* * *

Ukai ends the first set when the score goes by twenty-five versus nineteen. The winning team consists out of Kei, Hinata, Nishinoya, Kageyama, Ennoshita, and Narita. It’s a no brainer that they’d win over the other team who only has Sawamura and Azumane as regulars. I don’t know why Ukai decided to separate them like that. Maybe they want to try something new?

After some words of advice from their coach, all the players head toward me and Kiyoko. We give them their full water bottle and a new towel. At the moment, they don’t look that tired since they’ve only played for less than twenty minutes. They’ll be drenched in their own sweat for the next two or three hours. It’s always like that.

“Oi, the Cursed Princess.” Out of nowhere, my ponytail is being forcibly pulled by everyone-knows-who.

“What?” I immediately turn around to glare at the suspect's golden eyes. I’m not in the mood to interact with him, but whatever. Everyone—especially Sawamura and Ukai—is here, so I don’t want to be loud and cause troubles.

“Send me your poster design.”

Dots.

I can’t find words to say. I can only look up to him with an indescribable expression.

Is he being dead serious? After all the struggles I’ve gone through for the whole day? After I begged my father and Utsui for Ushijima’s phone number? After I set aside my pride to ask Ushijima whom I plainly rejected before? After all these things?

“No… need…” Only God and myself know how hard I try to repress my anger. I want to scream and kick this guy's crotch, but I can’t allow myself to do that right now.

Or should I just drag him out of the gym and torture him there? I have a sharp scissor in my bag. I can use that to stab his eyes or at least, I can cut his ears. Mutilating him is also a good option. Which one should I try first? I want him to die slowly but surely.

When I thought that I couldn’t hate him more, I apparently can.

“What's wrong?” Kei frowns innocently, as if he hasn’t played around with my heart. “Is it taken care of?”

“Hm,” I give a simple reply. It’s not even an “mhm” to imply a “yes”. It’s an ambiguous “hm”.

I don’t know if Kei wants to speak more because I avert my eyes to Nishinoya who just dropped his towel to the floor. I walk fast to him and grab the aforementioned item. Nishinoya takes it with a thank you and big smile. Then he praises the perfect receive that I did previously. God, I wish Kei would be as pleasing as him.

“[F/N], today after club you’re going to teach me and Kageyama, right?” Hinata suddenly walks closer to me. He holds a volleyball up above his head with both hands. He does love volleyball that much, huh?

I nod. “Yes, as promised.”

“Yamaguchi! You too, right?” Hinata throws his question to Yamaguchi who stands only a meter behind me and is busy gulping the last drop of his water bottle.

“Uh, yes,” Yamaguchi responds without a pause.

Hinata doesn’t ask Kei—probably because he knows he won’t get a proper reaction—but I know Kei will come. If there’s Kei, there’s me and there’s Yamaguchi. Moreover, the three of us have promised Hinata and Kageyama last Friday.

Frankly speaking, I’m quite surprised that Kei doesn’t bother me anymore. Normally he’d be near me and pull my hair until Sawamura or Ukai force him to stop. This time is different. He’s just being idle while cleaning his glasses.

I don’t know whether it’s because he’s tired or because he knows that he has hurt my heart. No. Impossible. Kei won’t ever feel bad for someone. We’ve been together every single day for more than one hundred and fifty days, but he has never apologized to me when he made a mistake. Not even once.

* * *

The club activity finishes exactly at six. Two hours earlier than usual and the only reason is because we all have to study. We’re excited about it, but not entirely.

I head to the manager’s clubroom with Kiyoko. I don’t usually change back to my school uniform, but Kiyoko does. The same as Kei. I don’t see the point of doing that because once we’re home, we’ll instantly throw all of our clothes to the washing machine. Although, it does look cooler to walk home with Karasuno’s uniform than our boring white and black training uniform.

When we arrive at the clubroom, I instantly open my school bag to check on my phone. There aren’t any important new messages, but I have to call my parents to inform them about Ushijima who will come in an hour or two. I don’t want to chat them because I know, they won’t quickly read or reply.

“Kiyoko-senpai, be right back. I have to call my parents about something,” I tell Kiyoko before leaving the clubroom. I continue to walk more and stop under a big tree with tremendous amount of green leaves. This location is actually creepy, but I need a secluded place so no one can hear my conversation.

Without waiting any longer, I go to my phone’s contact list and call my house. If no one picks up, then I’ll contact either my father or mother’s phone number. Life can be as simple as that.

“Hello?”

Lucky me. My mother picks up. That means she’s home already.

“Kaa-san, it’s me,” I greet the women.

“Oh. What?” My mother greets back as if I’m a bothering pest. Maybe she’s cooking dinner or doing other things at the moment, but does she have to use that tone to her own daughter?

I clear my throat a bit before continuing, “At seven or eight, Ushijima-san will come to our house.”

“Does this have anything to do with the posters or something like that? Your father told me just a moment ago.”

I'm happy because of two things. One, my mother’s first reaction about Ushijima was normal. This is rare as I can tell how much she’s hot about that guy. Two, it seems that my dumb father kind of understood what I meant in the phone call before. It has saved my time to explain.

“Yeah, I ask him to print some posters and he offered to bring them to our house. He wants to jog until our area, that’s why,” I willingly add more informations.

“Oh, really? Are you sure you’re not forcing him?”

I’m forcing him. Out of one thousand and one things to say, my mother chooses to accuse me of forcing Ushijima Wakatoshi. Sadly, I’m not really in the mood to fight back. How many times have I stated that today?

“I’ll be home at eight like usual, so yeah… Thanks, Kaa-san,” I respond lazily with words that don’t have anything to do with what my mother said previously.

“Wait... did something happen in school? Normally you’d get angry.” So she does realize, but again, I'm not in the mood.

“Yeah. No. Bye,” I utter bunch of random words before ending the call, locking my phone, and tucking it into my black training pants’ right pocket. Unconsciously I sigh as I walk back slowly to my clubroom. I thought I would survive this day with positivity at its highest, but I've lost it all. I don’t have any passion to do anything. Teaching Hinata and Kageyama will basically use my last drop of energy.

When I enter the clubroom, I notice Kiyoko has fully changed back into her school uniform and is now sitting down on a chair to wear our official white with green stripes school shoes. I can’t tell how much I hate those shoes, but what can I do when all the students are obligated to wear them? I’d rather wear a pair of plain black shoes like what my middle school used to have.

“What’s the matter?” Kiyoko immediately questions me. I don't know if she can tell my shattered mood through my boring face or not.

“I asked when they'll be home,” I tell another lie to Kiyoko.

“Ah, I see.” Kiyoko smiles purely and it does hurt me to have lied. “Also, you haven’t told me about the party yesterday.”

“Actually, there’s nothing to be told, Kiyoko-senpai.” And yet, I still give lies. “I went there, I ate, then I went home and sleep. If there’s something to be told, then it’s about Kei getting angry over my dress, but you know that already.”

“Hahaha, yeah, you’re right. You guys are so cute together.” Kiyoko rises from the chair once her shoes are perfectly clipped.

Normally, I’d be so annoyed if someone calls Kei and I “cute”. Normally, I’d yelp and threaten Kiyoko to not say that ever again. I don’t anymore. It feels that even if I hear a gossip about me and Kei going to a love hotel, I won’t mind at all. I’m totally broken for today, mentally and physically.

“I’ll go home first, okay?” Kiyoko grabs her navy handbag from the doorless locker.

“Yes. Take care, Kiyoko-senpai. I’ll clean myself a bit.” I wave my right hand and she nods with a sparkling smile as a reply. At least seeing her face can heal my heart a little bit. Even the way she closes our rusty door is stunning. She’s just too gorgeous.

* * *

I enter the boys’ volleyball’s clubroom and the first thing that greets me is the view of Tanaka being topless while sitting on the floor, studying with Sugawara. He looks at me, but only smiles. As a manager, this isn’t a new thing for me nor them. Every single day, I’ll see these sad boys changing their outfit in the gym, directly in front of me. As long as they don't show their genitals, I'm okay with that.

I search the back of the clubroom to see Hinata and Kageyama sitting cross-legged in front of Kei and Yamaguchi who sit in the same style. As expected, Kei is the only one who wears his uniform. I step closer to them and plan to sit between Kageyama and Yamaguchi, but I know I’m too big to fit in there. Whatever. I should be safe sitting beside Kei, as long as I don’t really put my attention on his doing.

“The Cursed Princess has arrived,” Kei’s the one who points out my existence, but I don’t give any comment when I sit down and put my shoulder bag behind me. I don’t even take a tiny glimpse at his snobbish face.

“Hinata, is that Japanese literature?” I question Hinata who’s focusing himself on a small paper on the floor. It’s upside down, so I can’t really tell.

“Yeah, I’m trying to answer it,” Hinata replies without even looking back at me. That's good. He must be studying rigorously if he wants to go to Tokyo in the next three weeks.

I bend my body forward to read the question that Hinata reads—or tries to answer. It’s about filling the blank of a proverb. I perfectly angle my body to the side so I can read word by word clearly.

_This proverb expresses that even the ruthless person can show compassions or even cry at times.  
     “Even in a demon's eyes, you'll find ___ .”_

I gulp. This one is super easy. You don’t even have to be Japanese to understand or at least to randomly guess. The answer is _tears_ , but just when I want to give him a clue, Hinata writes down something from a completely different proverb. What’s wrong with him? Does he even read the question properly?

“Okay, I’m done.” Hinata gives his paper to Kei. I want to take it so I can be the one who tells Hinata in a good manner, but Kei has grabbed it faster than my body can move. Truly the perk of being twenty centimeters shorter than him.

Kei holds the paper with both hands and reads it. In an instance, his expression turns into a stressful and irritating one. Even I can’t really describe my hatred toward that face of his.

“…isn’t it ‘an iron club’?” Hinata asks, since Kei doesn’t instantly say whether his answer is right or false.

Yeah, just wait.

Sooner or later, I’m pretty sure Kei will roar like an untamed lion out of its cage. He’s not really fond of Hinata and Kageyama. Had Yamaguchi and I not begged him to teach those duo, he would’ve not been here by now. Now it’s duplicated by the fact that Hinata is this unintelligent.

“…you’re thinking about another proverb,” Kei finally comments what I exactly thought of. I see Yamaguchi nods his head in agreement.

There’s another proverb that says “giving a club to a demon”, which means increasing the strength of someone who’s already powerful enough. Again, Japanese proverb is an infant-level material. It’s even so rational to be understood by people from the entire world. I bet Hinata only read the word “demon” and instantly answered whatever came to his mind first.

“Didn’t you read the explanation? You probably read the word ‘demon’, didn’t read the rest of the question, and just wrote the first thing that came to your mind. You’re such an idiot.” It’s getting horror because Kei is saying exactly the same thing that came to my mind, besides the “idiot” part. Obviously, since I'm way more warm-hearted than him.

I take a glance at Hinata who looks so upset. Either because of Kei’s words or because he thinks of the very small possibility of him going to Tokyo. I choose to believe the former, simply because if I were him, I would’ve felt the same.

I exhale a tiring breath. I guess I have to involve myself in this because I can’t ignore Kei for that long. I can't let him bully Hinata or Kageyama that much. This is just me. My personality doesn’t allow my mouth to shut, especially when I have an opinion about something off.

“Not everyone is as smart as the others. Some are good in math, some are good in sports, some are good in arts. In the end, I respect people who try the most, more than people who are so full of themselves,” I scoff.

“Huh?” Kageyama slightly narrows his eyes to me, then Kei. “Are you guys… breaking up again?”

I roll my eyes. I know Kageyama is just joking. He knows for sure that I’m not dating Kei, but still. Should I just move to basketball club tomorrow? I hope next year I won’t be in the same class as Kei.

“Shut up, Kageyama.” Kei smashes the floor near his legs with his right palm. “You need to memorize basic math formulas and English vocabs on your own. You're probably worse than Hinata.”

“Japanese people can’t understand English!” Kageyama tries his best to defend his incapability, even though that doesn’t matter. Whether he likes it or no, every school in almost every country—if not all—is getting English literature subject. Go blame the history for making English our world's international language, rather than Japanese.

Kei crosses his arms. “Then just give up on going to Tokyo.”

“Kageyama, you know I’m fluent in English. I’ll go to your house this weekend. What do you think?” I offer.

“What? No way,” Kei instantly objects to my generous intention.

I grit my teeth and glare at Kei, much to my annoyance. “I’m not asking you and please stop acting like you’re my great-grandfather.”

Kei scowls at me. “No is no.”

“Shut up. What I do is none of your business.”

“You're the one who should shut up and listen for once.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

“At least I can take care of myself. Not like you who wears tight dress to arouse your father's friends.”

“What the hell, Kei?! Watch your mouth! I didn't have any purpose like that! And why are you still mentioning that dress?! Get over it already!”

“Hahaha. Right.”

“You two should just get married after graduation…” I hear Hinata mumbles while trying to control his smile. Then Yamaguchi follows that up with a giggle. Kageyama himself just stays silent. I don’t know why he looks puzzled about this. Don’t tell me that he does think I’m romantically involved with Kei.

I click my tongue. “Whatever, I won't mention this anymore. Let’s study. This thing is more important than anything else. Kageyama, give me your English book.”

“Okay.” Kageyama bobs his head before opening his white shoulder bag that just lies on the floor, exactly on his left.

* * *

Everybody knows that I’m an forthright girl who sees everyone and everything in one line. I don’t pick sides if it's unnecessary, nor do I try to fabricate stuff when there’s an obvious truth in front of me.

The same rule applies to Hinata and Kageyama. They’re not idiots, but they’re super ignorant. They keep making the same mistakes over and over again. If it’s once or twice in a lifetime, then sure. I too make a lot of mistakes, but they’re literally doing it nine out of ten times.

Kei, Yamaguchi, and I advice Hinata to read every question thoroughly before answering. In the real exam, we’re going to have more than enough time to finish everything, so reading won’t kill him. If he doesn’t read, it will. Still, he doesn’t do it. I don’t understand. I can’t think of any explanation of this strange behavior.

We advice Kageyama to memorize vocabs and pronounce them several times until they’re implanted perfectly on his mind. True, English is hard to be pronounced by Japanese people, but remembering is a different matter that's way easier. What we get for the exam aren’t difficult at all, so Kageyama should've been able to nail it. Still, he doesn’t have any dedication and give up too easily.

These two aren’t purely dumb or mentally incapable because they can memorize many things about volleyball. They only care about the said sport. Others don’t matter. Unfortunately, we’re high school students. We have to study, do homework, and pass exams. We can’t do anything to prevent those three things.

I don't want to say this out loud, but somehow I understand whenever Kei is so sick of teaching them. We, humans, have our own limit of patience. Even Yamaguchi who's softer than both Kei and I are done with this.

“It’s twenty minutes past seven,” I remind  my clubmates after I look at the clubroom’s clock. “I have to go home now. It’s getting too late. If you need something, you can LINE me.”

“Thank you.” Both Hinata and Kageyama replies to me consecutively, although their eyes are still stuck to their books.

“Yamaguchi, you’re not going home?” I travel my eyes to Yamaguchi who's happily staring down at Kageyama's book.

Yamaguchi smiles warmly at me and lightly wobbles his head. “I’ll help them for a bit more.”

“Okay then.” I grab my shoulder bag and stand up. At the same time, Kei does the same. I know he won’t mind leaving Yamaguchi alone, unlike Yamaguchi who will follow him into the abyss.

“Are you going to walk home with me? I don’t want to,” I warn Kei.

Instead of saying something, Kei smirks. In one swift motion, he walks two steps forward and bend his body forward to match my height. I want to jump and push him away, but he's quick enough to rise his right and use it to stroke my right cheek lovingly. His face is so close to mine that if I move an inch closer, we'll lock lips.

This is disturbing, but enough to make all the second years—who see what just happened—squealing and teasing us with some “kyaaa” and “wooo”. I pout, push Kei's body away, and instantly exit the clubroom. I haven’t even said my goodbye to the others, but I’m already too annoyed with the overall situation. I hate what Kei has just done to me. He’ll make everyone misunderstands. No, I'm sure they already do.

“What’s wrong with you today? You're less wild,” Kei shouts as we walk together beneath the darkness of June’s night sky. Well, not literally together because he walks three of four meters behind me.

I really want to scream at the top of my lungs. I had an undesirable day yesterday. Today I didn’t do well in house. Then I called Ushijima—a rival—because Kei didn’t want to help me with printing posters for our club’s sake. In the end, Kei said he would while it was already too late. Everything is Kei’s fault.

All of these unclear words are ready to be thrown away outside, but I know I can’t. This feeling is exhausting. I'm so mad at every little piece of this tainted world.

“Come on. What’s wrong?” Kei has gotten very close to me and once he stands on my left, he wraps his long arm carefully around my shoulder. “Don’t you always tell me everything?”

Again. This arm-wrapping technique again. He’s always doing this whenever I’m angry. Before, it did worked. I thought he was feeling sorry and showing it through a non-verbal action. Now, I won’t jump into the same hole.

“Your parents blamed you about something you didn't do?” Kei starts his first guess.

“No.”

Well, actually yes, but that’s only twenty percent of my problems. Nevertheless, that’s a good guess. One point for Kei.

“You once again asked for a cat and you parents didn’t allow it?”

“No.”

“You parents forced you to do something you disagreed with?”

“Why’s everything always about my parents? Do I complain a lot about them?” I ask back.

“You always complain about them,” Kei emphasizes “always”.

“It’s not about them.”

“Then…” Kei holds his tongue for a moment before continuing. “Did I do something wrong?”

My chest hurts a little. I don't know why, but if I have to guess, then I think it's because the tone Kei uses to voice his sentence. It feels so heavy and remorseful. I barely hear that kind of timbre from him.

“…yeah.”

I can feel that Kei’s grip on my shoulder is getting tighter than before. Does he feel bad? No, impossible. This is just acting.

“Is this what you do? When someone cares about you, you get mad at them? That's totally ungrateful, don't you think?” Kei mentions about the dress-accident again.

“I had a bad morning.”

“What do you want me to do about that?” Kei proceeds to the next question. I know he won’t just leave until he feels satisfied with how I am.

“I want you to say sorry to me, but now it's not valid anymore because if you do it, you’ll only do it because I tell you to do it.” I complain too fast, lucky enough I don’t choke.

Kei chuckles. I lift my head up and see him doing it so genuinely. He looks so enchanting under the moonlight. No wonder it fits his name. If only he knows.

“Kei.” I stretch out my left arm and hold on the shirt on Kei’s back. “Buy me ice cream.”

“Hahaha. Granted. The usual flavor?”

I grunt. “What's my usual flavor? I barely eat ice cream. Don’t speak as if you know everything about me.”

“Chocolate with hazelnut topping. Maybe you’re tired of it? How about green tea? I hope lychee is available as well.”

I can't help myself but to giggle. This guy knows me the best, even better than anyone else that I’ve known for years, even better than my own parents. The only problem is whenever I love him, he’ll come with his antics to anger me. Whenever I hate him, he’ll come to make me calm with the greatest wits. He won’t give up until I open my heart back.

Just for tonight—I swear only for tonight—I’m sure that I love him more. Right, judge me. Don't I jump into the same hole? How easy that is to change my mind? Blame Kei because only he can do that.

“Okay Kei. I'll tell you about what happened this morning…” I mutter as I tighten my fingers on his shirt.


	7. Teaching a Friend, Chatting a Rival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oi, why are you on your phone the whole day? Who are you chatting?”_
> 
> _“Oh, just a friend.“_
> 
> _“Who?”_
> 
> _“Nanako, my classmate from middle school.”_
> 
> I don’t know who the hell Nanako is, but I have to mention a female name to shut all of Kei’s curiosities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone!
> 
> One thing that I realize is that I got quite a lot of subscribers after I updated the last chapter. Does that mean you guys like Tsukki so much? Or is that just a coincidence? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Nonetheless, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the loves!
> 
> Important!  
> \- If you do like Tsukki, I hope you'll like this chapter as well.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“The quality is so good! Is this really okay?! Please say thank you again to your father!”

I laugh awkwardly as I stand in front of Kiyoko who’s holding a piece of black-and-orange-dominant poster with both hands. Her eyes travel rapidly between the aforementioned item and my face. My right palm begins rubbing the bridge of my nose, although I know that’s a fault if I want to look all natural.

The only reason why I must put a mask is because the same as her, I’m also surprised. I’m still surprised. I’ve been feeling this way for more than ten hours and I don’t think it’ll falter any time soon.

Last night, I entered my house like usual. I took off and put my shoes back to its rack and headed to the dining room, where my parents were talking to each other while watching TV. On top of the dining table, there were some food for me—my parents always ate first because I went home too late—and also, a medium-sized plain green canvas bag.

My mother told me that it was from Ushijima. The first thing that popped on my mind was the image of Ushijima running while wrapping this bag on his shoulder. He was a hunky guy, so it wouldn't be cool. It would be amusing.

Then she told me how she offered Ushijima for a drink, but he refused politely because he had to come back soon. Apparently, the dorm’s gate in Shiratorizawa would be locked exactly at ten p.m., unless if you had told the security beforehand. She also said stuff about how tall and attractive his sweaty face was, but that didn’t have any connection with the current situation.

After I had dinner, I went to my room to check the bag. I didn’t exaggerate, but I almost passed out when I saw the quality of the posters. The thickness and flexibility were amazing. I took one and tried to scratch the corner and just like I had expected, the ink didn’t fade that easily. Everything was superb, even the way its surface felt was similar to the skin of a newborn baby.

I know Ushijima used free papers from his school, but I don’t know whether he intended to choose or there were only the good quality ones. For sure damn Shiratorizawa for providing their students to that level. I’m eager to visit their cafeteria. I bet there are free caviars and white truffles.

“Are we going to search for the new manager during lunch break?” I break Kiyoko’s amazement with an important question.

“Oh, about that.” She smiles at me. “Can I do it by myself?”

“Eh? Why?” I raise my eyebrows and my eyes are as big as they can get. Does she think I’m not dependable? I feel hurt, truthfully.

Kiyoko puts back the poster inside of the green bag that’s been wrapping her left wrist for the past two minutes or so. “I want you to help Hinata and Kageyama studying.”

“Oh…” I try to load what Kiyoko has just said and when I get it, I shout a bit, “Oh! Okay then!”

“Hahaha. Then I’ll go back to my class. You should go back fast, the bell will ring soon. Be careful,” Kiyoko says while waving her right hand and walking back to her class. She almost bumps into some guy, but instead of being angry or what not, the latter becomes stiff. As expected from Kiyoko.

I start heading back to my own class. The third-years’ classrooms are located in another building than the first-years’, but I’m sure I won’t be late. Even if the bell rings now, I can just run before the teacher comes in. As long as I’m inside of the school, I’m safe.

While I stride a long hall and stairs, I take out my phone from my shirt’s left pocket. I open LINE to see no reply from Ushijima. I press on our chat to read what I’ve written once more. Last night, I gave him my address and he only read it. Then after I got the posters, I chatted him again, but he hasn’t read it until now. I reread the second time, just to make sure that I didn’t type anything wrong.

 _ Me _  
_Ushijima-san,_ _I just went home and checked the papers_  
_I’m speechless. The quality is so good. I don’t know what to say besides thank you_  
_Seriously, thank you, thank you, thank you!_  
_Thank you 1000x!_  
_Thank you infinite!_

I sigh. I know myself that I didn’t type anything wrong. Was it too exaggerating? I doubt so if Ushijima won't reply to me just because of that. Maybe he’s too busy. He has so many things going on with his life, so I’ll just wait.

“[L/N]!”

I halt and turn my body around to see Kageyama leaving class four. That’s where Sawamura and Sugawara are. High chance he went to ask some exam-related stuff from them. It’s very pleasing to see him being so wholehearted about this matter.

“What’s wrong?” I ask without waiting him to be directly in front of me.

“Can you please come to my class during lunch break? I need you to teach me English.”

“Sure,” I instantly agree. Kageyama’s a friend and clubmate. I want him to go to Tokyo with everyone else, so I don’t see the point of not helping him.

“Oh!” Kageyama bows deep. “Thank you! I’ll give you my _yakisoba_ bread in return!”

I chuckle. I know he’s thankful, but I don’t need him to be that formal to me. Although I won’t say no to his _yakisoba_ bread, as known as free lunch. Yes.

* * *

As always, the lunch break’s bell rings at twelve fourty p.m. I clean my desk and shove all my belongings inside of the book box, then I rise from my chair and walk to Kei who’s still writing something on his thin paper. He has always been more studious than me. Even all of his notes are so neat.

“Kei, I’m not going to the cafeteria,” I say softly. “I’m going to Kageyama’s class.”

Kei tilts his head up. “Why?”

“Teaching him English. Want to come?”

“No. I said I’m only going to teach him before and after club.”

Right. I don’t know why I asked when I knew the answer. Well, at least he lets me go. He’s not a psychopath slash possessive friend, but sometimes he’ll get angry if I leave him for Kageyama or Hinata, as they aren’t really good with one another. I mean, who won’t? I’ll react the same if he leaves me for someone I quite dislike.

But right now, for sure, I love the way he acts so normal and collected. I hope this stays the same until the end of the day. If that does happen, I can guarantee no unnecessary fight will occur. I'm tired of that. I never like fighting him.

“Do you want me to buy you something?” he offers kindly while turning back his beautiful golden eyes on his writing.

“No need. Kageyama will give me _yakisoba_ bread. See you.” I wobble both of my hands mid-air before dashing away from the class. I hear Kei gives me a soft “take care”, but I don’t see the need to say anything back.

I’m in class four and Kageyama is in class three. Basically, our class is next to each other, hence it takes no time for me to arrive. I excuse myself to some people as I walk inside. I see Kageyama sitting at his desk that’s located exactly in the middle of the class. There are several books and five  _yakisoba_ breads on his table. I don’t think he bought that from the cafeteria since the bell just rang, so he must’ve brought those from home. I wish I could do the same, but no one sells simple food around my house and I know my parents won’t bother themselves to buy _yakisoba_ breads for me.

“Kageyama, did you just get English class?” I call Kageyama's name before rotating an empty chair in front of his desk so I can occupy it. The owner is gone somewhere, but I can take another chair if he or she’s back.

“Yes and please help me. I don’t understand past tense at all.” Kageyama shows this agonized face, just after I drag my chair forward.

I pull his book with my right hand. There are fifty verbs in which you have to answer what the past forms are. I had exactly the same lesson yesterday. Without further ado, I skim through most of Kageyama’s answers.

 _Walk = walked_  
_Eat = eated_  
_Watch = watched_  
_Drink = drinked_  
_Swim = swimed_  
_Run = runed_  
_Cry = cryed_

I can’t bring myself to either facepalm or laugh out loud because this is just too much. Kageyama plainly and innocently adds _-ed_ to every verb. Every. Verb. I thought he must’ve remembered some, but the fact is he doesn’t. At all.

“Congratulations. Out of fifty questions, you only answered right to less than ten.” I don’t hide the truth. “Not all past verbs are ended with ‘ed’. Seriously, there’s no any other way to answer this correctly than to memorize it. After all, language is always about memorization.”

“I can’t remember them! They’re too many!” Kageyama rubs his ears back and forth in anguish.

I sigh and begin to talk in a very hollow tone, because I am, “They aren’t that many… At least you should remember half of them… If you can’t, then I don’t know what else to say… Five verbs per day won’t hurt anyone…”

“I’m so confused! What’s the difference between ‘I’ followed by past verb like this and ‘I’ followed by ‘was’?!” Kageyama keeps giving emphasis to “I”. He really loathes this subject.

“Like this…” I take a good hold of a black pen near Kageyama’s right arm and start to scrabble on his book. “Verb means ‘something that you do’. Example… you cook, you run, you walk—they’re all part of ‘doing something’. Understand?”

Kageyama moves his head up and down several times while averting his eyes between the book and my serious face.

“I ‘was’ or we ‘were’ is followed by an adjective. In some tenses, it’s followed by a past participle verb, but that won’t come out on the exam. Adjective itself is an attribute of a noun.”

Kageyama frowns and slightly open his mouth after hearing the word “attribute” and “noun”. Just when I thought I was clear enough.

“Okay! Let’s just say that attribute is your opinion and noun is someone or something, like the subject!” I keep writing everything that comes out of my mouth. “Let’s say… beautiful, handsome, tall, big, strong, ugly, sad, and happy. They’re considered as your ‘opinion’ of someone or something. They’re not you ‘doing something’ like verb. Do you get it?”

“Hooo… Somehow I do…” I swear I can see some sparkles on Kageyama’s eyes. I’m glad if he understands, even though not completely. As long as he can get more than forty on the exam, he’ll be okay.

“Now try to say a sentence using ‘I was’,” I give him his first simple objective.

“Hm…” Kageyama crosses his arms and leaning back on his chair. “I was… awesome?”

“Yes! That wasn’t hard, was it?!” I praise Kageyama’s effortless sentence. In all fairness, he’s not a big of a fool. He just has to find a will to learn.

“…right now it’s not hard, but I know it’ll be during the actual exam…” Kageyama huffs.

I put down Kageyama’s pen. “Don’t give up before you try. You never do so during volleyball match.”

“But how come your English is so good? Even your pronunciations are better than Ono-sensei.”

“I play video games and I always bring dictionary with me.” I wipe off some sticky fringes on my temples. The air conditioners in this class are turned on, but the door is wide open. That always happens duriny lunch break. All the cold air is gone to waste.

“Hooo… You’re really a good match for Tsukishima.”

“Thanks...?” I don’t know how to properly respond. I don’t think being a “good match” for Kei is something to boast about. It’s the same as being told that you’re a “good match” for hell. That’s very unkind.

“Do you have any tips on how I can memorize faster?” Kageyama questions again.

“Yeah. I think memorizing through videos are easier. I’ll find some tutorials on Youtube. You go find some written tutorials or tips and tricks.”

“Are there?” Kageyama unzips his white bag that hangs on the right hook of his desk.

“What do you mean ‘are there’? It’s the internet. You’re going to find a lot of them.” I pick my phone from my pocket and press on the power button once to lighten the screen.

My heart stops when I see a LINE notification from Ushijima. No, not a notification. There are two of them.

I immediately unlock my phone and open my LINE to see the actual chat. He replied around two hours ago when I was still in the class. Does Shiratorizawa have a different break time than Karasuno? Impossible. The government should decide that for us. No, I actually don’t know.

Why am I having a panic attack? I guess I still feel so grateful to Ushijima  for helping me a lot.

 _ Ushijima _  
_No problem_  
_Glad to help_

Should I say thank you one more time and end our conversation? Somehow if I do that, it’ll feel like I’m only taking granted of him. He’s the great Ushijima Wakatoshi, not a sanitary pad that I can use and discard any time I want. I have to continue this new relationship.

“[L/N], do you have friends that go to Shiratorizawa?”

My phone almost jumps from my hands after I hear Kageyama’s sudden question. What’s wrong with the world nowadays? The timing is always so perfect. I almost thought Kageyama had a sixth sense to read my mind or an eyeball behind my back.

“Yeah, one person only. Goshiki. He was the captain of the boys’ volleyball team in my middle school, so he got a scholarship,” I answer, eyes moving back to my phone.

“So only both captains got a scholarship? Is he a regular now?” Kageyama proceeds to another question, although his focus is fully taken by his own phone. I hope he still searches for English-related things.

I pause to inhale a short breath. “I have no idea. I didn’t see him during Interhigh nor do I contact him lately, but I won’t be shocked if he is.”

“Is he strong?”

“Yes, if you ask me. Great spike and serve.”

Finally, Kageyama speaks no more. Now I have the chance to do what I’ve been wanting to do. Without any wasted second, I type several words to Ushijima. I hope he’s also having a lunch break at the moment so he can reply fast to my chat. For some unknown reasons, I have this uneasiness feeling if he doesn’t.

 _Me_  
_Does Shiratorizawa provide those good qualities of papers for free?_

And he instantly reads my chat. That’s awesome.

_Ushijima  
No. Yours are from my club_

_ Me _  
_I don't understand?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_The library only provides normal papers_  
_I took the good papers from my volleyball club_  
_We have some that we don’t use_

There are two things that strikes me all at once. One, I’m amazed that Ushijima writes so many sentences. Two, he took papers from his club. It’s very legit for me to say that Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball club literally helps Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball club. That’s pretty degrading, but unfortunately, we need their help.

 _ Me _  
_I see!_  
_Are you having lunch at the moment?_

_Ushijima  
Yes_

_ Me _  
_With your teammates? :o_

_Ushijima  
Yes_

_ Me _  
_Is Goshiki with you?_

_Ushijima  
In front of me_

So Goshiki is having lunch with Ushijima. I don’t doubt his ability to get as many friends as he wants, but I’m pretty sure only exclusive people can be near Ushijima. Probably his classmates or the regulars of the volleyball team. Does that mean Goshiki a regular?

Why am I mumbling to myself? I only have to ask if I want to know.

 _ Me _  
_Is he a regular?_

_Ushijima  
He is the only regular from the first year_

_ Me _  
_Hahaha_  
_As expected XD_

Just like before, Ushijima reads my chat in a flash, but this time it takes him a moment to writes back.

_Ushijima  
What is your relationship with Goshiki?_

After reading that question, I feel the urge to laugh, but I hold it in because I don’t want to attract Kageyama’s attention. I know Ushijima is a pretty curious guy—I remember our meeting at that wedding after party and how he dropped me endless questions—but I thought he would only ask about volleyball-related matters. His one-dimensional look surely can deceive many people to think of him as nothing more than a boring and stern volleyball star.

 _ Me _  
_Ex-schoolmates_  
_And we were both captains, so we knew each other_

_Ushijima  
Is that so_

_ Me _  
_Yeah_  
_You haven’t mentioned my name in front of him, right?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No_  
_I try not to_

I abruptly stop typing when a chill brushes against my left cheek. I lock my phone and look up, to see Kei standing tall with his right hand holding a green canned drink. I can tell in an instance that it’s my favorite melon milk, which I always drink whenever I’m bored of regular mineral water or when I’m mad at everything in this world.

“Kei?” I call his name tenderly. I just want to make sure that the drink is really for me.

“Drink something.”

Obviously, it is for me.

“Thank you.” I grab the juice box from Kei’s hand and start to unwrap the glued white straw. I’m actually planning to go to the vending machine by myself before the bell rings, thus this saves a lot of time.

And truth be told, I slightly blush at Kei’s super sweetness. I shiver throughout my entire neck and cheeks. I know he thinks and cares about me, but coming all the way here just to give me a drink is something I thought he would never done. I really wish he will stay the same for at least a week. If he will, then I’ll treat him food. Just like he knows my favorite things, I know his very well.

“So you guys got back together again? That’s faster than usual.” Kageyama briefly comments. His eyes are still fixated on his phone.

“He?” All of a sudden, Kei smirks conceitedly. “Are you okay with teaching this idiot? I’m afraid you’ll get even more cursed.”

I lift one of my eyebrows, so puzzled at Kei’s bipolarity. “Why are you always fighting Kageyama? He doesn’t do anything to you.”

Kei shrugs while laughing nonchalantly. He looks behind to see an empty chair and immediately sits on it. He appears so huge, compared to the chair. I think he needs a custom-made chair to fit his body and ego. I just hope for him to stop bothering Kageyama. At least for today.

“What are you teaching him?” Kei asks me as he crosses his right leg over his left.

“Past verbs.” I bite on my straw—this is one of my habits. “I know you’re going to mock him, but no need. Not this time. I’m not in the mood to fight you.”

“Hahaha. Where’s the other one?”

“Hinata, you mean?”

“Who else, stupid?”

“Kage, where is Hinata?” I turn to ask Kageyama and instantly get a shrug as a reply. If anyone notices, I did ignore Kei for calling me stupid. Just like I said, I’m not in the mood to fight him.

“How am I supposed to know?” Kageyama retorts.

That’s actually rational. Kageyama and Hinata aren’t best buddies like Kei and Yamaguchi. So far, I’ve never seen them going somewhere together past club activities, while Kei and Yamaguchi have slept in each other’s house plus seen many secrets of each other.

That sounds kind of wrong, actually.

“[L/N], did you find videos for me?” Kageyama reminds me.

“Oh yeah! Sorry!” Deep inside, I curse to myself. I was distracted by Ushijima until I forgot about Kageyama, then I was distracted by Kei and my drink until I forgot about Ushijima. Quickly, I open my phone that has locked back itself to type a very fast reply to the Shiratorizawa’s ace.

 _ Me _  
_Ushijima-san, I’ll study with my friends_  
_Let’s talk again later_

Then I lock my phone and put it back into my pocket. Now let’s focus solely on helping Kageyama. There’s nothing more important than making both him and Hinata pass all the exams. That’s my number one priority.

* * *

“Aaaaaaggghhh!!!!!!!!! I can’t take this anymore!!! What’s the difference between in and on?!” Hinata whimpers loudly, resembling a thunder. I swear I can spot some tears on the edges of his eyes. I want to rub his back and say that everything will be okay if he studies hard, but I’m scared that will break his nerve and make him bawl.

I tilt my head to the right, to see Kei who apparently has stared earlier at me. Both of us then sigh simultaneously. We’ve been in the boys’ clubroom for the past fifteen minutes. During those time, we’ve explained many things to Hinata and Kageyama, but it’s futile.

I’m currently beyond depressed. I don’t know what to do. Should I inject some substances from my brain to theirs? I won't mind if that does help. They don’t even have to pay me.

“Okay. Hinata, Kageyama, listen.” I move Kei’s blue handbag—which is kept behind the owner—to the front of my crossed legs. I can’t take my own because I left it in the manager’s clubroom.

“Yes?” Hinata asks in a very gloomy tone and face, while Kageyama just averts his eyes in silence. I hope the latter won’t be stoned during club activity.

“Watch this and please, I beg you to take a very good grasp of it.” I grab Hinata’s super thick English book that lies near me and I put it inside of the bag. “If it’s ‘inside’, then it’s ‘in’. Okay?”

Hinata and Kageyama nods, almost at the same time.

“Now, if it’s not inside…” I take out the book and put it on top of the bag. “Like this, then it’s ‘on’, because it’s not ‘inside’. Same like when you put food on your plate. It’s ‘on’ your plate, but if you put food in your lunch box, since you put it ‘inside’, it becomes ‘in’. Okay?”

I receive nothing but confusing blinks. They won't ever understand me, will they?

“How come you don’t understand a very simple explanation like that? But well, it really is hard to teach idiots. Once an idiot, will always be an idiot.” Kei begins his insult, but I don’t have the heart and power to tell him to stop like usual. I’m also tired. I want to cry. I love Hinata and Kageyama plenty enough. I’ll sacrifice myself to help them. I just don’t know how.

“Yamaguchi, can you please take over from here?” I seek for a help from Yamaguchi who sits in front of me, just right behind Hinata.

“My English is not that good, but okay. I think you need to rest.”

“Thank you.” I let loose of my cross-legged position and straighten both of my legs, but far enough from Hinata. I don’t want him to smell my dirty socks, albeit I know it’s not smelly whatsoever. I look at the clock above the door. It’s ten minutes to four. The club activity will begin at four when Ukai will come. I haven’t changed my uniform, so perhaps I must to go now.

But before that, I take my time to grab my phone from my pocket. I receive two words from Ushijima, which was sent around five minutes ago. Previously, he didn’t reply—I’m sure he was done with his lunch, thus he had to go somewhere. Whatever that would be, I don’t wait any longer to begin typing something back.

_Ushijima  
Good luck_

_ Me _  
_You too!_  
_Won’t you be having final exam before summer holiday?_

“Oi, why are you on your phone the whole day?” When I look up, Kei’s already glaring intensely at me. “Who are you chatting?”

“Oh, just a friend.” I lock my phone and put it back in its place. I want to reward myself with a pat on back because of how smooth that reply was.

“Who?”

“Nanako, my classmate from middle school.” I don’t know who the hell Nanako is, but I have to mention a female name to shut all of Kei’s curiosities.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” I smile cutely. Deep down from the bottom of my heart, I really want to know what will Kei response be if I say it’s a guy, moreover Ushijima Wakatoshi. That’s an unprecedented case, but I’m sure he’ll be so over-protective, followed his usual great-grandfather speech. He can be such a sweetheart. Sometimes.

Now all that I have to do is to keep this small conversation as a secret and I’m good to go. Easy. It’s not like I’ll chat Ushijima every single day, anyway.


	8. The New Manager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Liar, liar, liar!_
> 
> Half of me screams, but I brush it away. There are moments when it’s best to lie and right now is the example. I know it myself, I lie for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Lucky number 8 is here! (why do I always say that)
> 
> Finally, we get into Yachi after more than 30k words. All thanks to the meeting and bonding with Ushiwaka which literally took 20k words... or I don't know. I don't count.
> 
> I hope all of you will enjoy this chapter no matter what. ♡
> 
> ps. On S0304, Tsukki's coolness and character development are beyond everything. I like him so much. I can't wait until I get to write about Karasuno vs. Shiratorizawa. ;_;  
> pps. Just a small note, I will only write about Karasuno vs. Shiratorizawa and a bit of Aoba Jousai. Matches prior to that will be written through narrations.
> 
> Important!  
> \- Don't read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

I’m a hypocrite and I don’t know how to free myself from it.

Did I say that I would not chat Ushijima for every single day? Right. I'd like to give myself a standing applause because for the past three days, I’ve been constantly chatting him.

At first, I intended to keep replying as I felt bad if I didn’t. I wanted to be good-natured, especially after he had kindly helped me. There’s also a side fact that he’s a family friend. Embarrassing to admit, but it got more and more addicting.

To underline everything, we actually don’t contact each other that much because of our busy and clashing schedules. Normally, we’ll chat each other in the morning after we wake up. It continues after we clean ourselves, have breakfast, and when I’m in the train. Sometimes we stop after I arrive in school because Ushijima has to lock his dorm room and head to his own classroom.

We barely chat each other during lunch break because I’ll spend the whole thirty five minutes with Kei, Yamaguchi, Hinata, or Kageyama. I still have to teach the last two many things, so I don’t want to get distracted like what has happened several days ago. Ushijima himself will have lunch with his group. Ignoring each other for a moment isn’t a bad thing. It’s even good, since we’re still keeping this conversation as a secret from everyone.

When the last class ends, we’ll continue, but mostly through the form of leaving messages here and there. Sometimes I reply after ten minutes, sometimes he replies after fifteen minutes. I don’t have the perfecg time because I have to teach Hinata and Kageyama again, plus I have to prepare for the club activity. Ushijima also has his own club activity. Moreover, he’s the captain.

After club is when I’m the one who’s usually unable to be reached. I walk to the train station and sit besides Kei. If I keep being abnormally stuck to my phone, that glasses-guy will get too suspicious. I know he’s able to forcefully snatch the aforementioned electronic gadget and read my whole chat. I don’t want that to happen because I know what the outcome will be.

Sometimes Ushijima will reply after I step out of the train. I’m always ready to type back since I don’t have anything else to do besides enjoying the view around me. The time when he won’t deliver a word will be the time when he’s too preoccupied by his club or friends.

At last, we’ll have dinner and long bath. I don’t study at home because I’ve had my share from teaching Hinata and Kageyama, but Ushijima will. That doesn’t really matter because he’ll keep pressing that send button even when I forbid. Then we’ll go to bed after saying goodnight to each other.

Because all of these short sentences, I learned some facts about him. In reality, he’s a very polite person. He always says sorry, even though he doesn’t do any mistake. I feel that he apologizes more than he talks about real world problems.

Three out of five times, he won’t understand the words I say, but I’m always being patient enough to elaborate them. He’s such a dork, so he doesn’t really know a lot of things. Just yesterday, I made a joke about Tanaka who looks like a bald monkey whenever he eats a banana and Ushijima didn’t get what’s funny about that.

He’s not easily hungry, but when his stomach is empty, he’ll eat at least two portions of meals and devour them very quickly. If people count his breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it’ll be six plates in total. No wonder he’s that huge. Or perhaps he eats that much because he’s huge? Unimportant.

In addition to those amazing eating-behavior and stomach size, he sleeps at a random time. I can clarify that myself. Once, he chats me at three a.m. because he went to pee and couldn’t close his eyes anymore. He’s a light sleeper, thus a small cough can instantly wake him up. It must be sad for him to live like that.

He jogs from Shiratorizawa until the area around my house whenever his club ends before five p.m., so it’s infrequent, maybe only five times a month. Usually it takes him three to four hours to finish the whole roadwork, including the time he stops several times to buy drinks from a vending machine. When he’s back, he’ll eat a lot—again.

Honestly, I envy that metabolism. I wish I could do that without gaining any fat.

And he’ll have exam in less than three weeks, which makes it the same as Karasuno. The exam itself is a battle between hell and heaven. According to him, people who get into Shiratorizawa through scholarships will have a harder time than those who pass through the super difficult entrance exam as the latter will obviously be smarter. I have no idea whether Ushijima is smart or no, but I won’t like it if he is. No one should be that perfect in everything.

Overall, he doesn’t speak many things. Sometimes he asks one or two things back to me, but it’s nothing when compared to all the syllables I’ve given to him. What’s amusing is that he always replies. I did think there would be a point where he would be so bored and only read my chat, but that hasn’t happened yet.

But is this really the right thing to do? I’ve declared it several times that I don’t want to feel guilty toward my teammates by being close to Ushijima, yet I keep doing it. True, we don’t talk about each other’s team, but I still feel a great dilemma. I really have to decide. I don’t want to be mess anything up.

“What’s wrong?”

I blink several times and look at my surroundings. At the moment, I’m in class one, with only Hinata sitting on his chair in front of me. How long have I spent daydreaming? Wasn’t I being too obvious until Hinata noticed?

“Is there something bothering you? It’s not like you to be lifeless like that,” Hinata continues. His eyes are no longer fixated on his thick book, although I told him to stay focus on answering those Japanese literature questions.

It’s okay for now as I have something else on my mind. Only for this time.

“Say, Hinata... I can’t tell this to anyone else, but I always feel comfortable with you…” I straighten my back. “I have a friend from middle school. Lately we’ve been chatting each other on LINE, but I want to stop. What do you think is the best way to do it? I don’t really want to say it straightforwardly because she’s such a sweet girl.”

A perplexed look frames Hinata’s round face. “Why do you want to stop chatting her?”

 _It’s because I’m actually talking about Ushijima Wakatoshi, as known as the ace from our rival team. Out of respect, I don’t want to sever ties thoroughly, but I don’t want our relationship to deepen that much either. What should I really do? I’m such a weirdo._ I wish I could say all that to Hinata.

“You don’t like her? Her personality is bad?” Hinata throws another question because I don’t reply soon.

“No, she’s a nice person. I just… don’t want us… to… get too close because of… reasons…” I don’t know how many ellipses I’ve given only to that one sentence.

“Then why did you chat her at the first place? No, no, no, wait.” Hinata rapidly shakes his head. “Who chatted who first?”

“I did. I needed her help for something.”

“What?” Hinata stalls, but I’m glad because that shows how empathetic he can be. “I don’t understand. She helped you, but then you didn’t want to chat her anymore?”

Ah, I want to run to this school’s rooftop and shriek so loud out of frustration.

This is so complicated to explain. I don’t even know which one is true and which one isn’t. It’s as if everything that comes out of my mouth will only present me under a bad light. Seriously, I’d rather do some math quizzes than trying to solve this problem, but unfortunately, I have to solve this problem.

Hinata puffs before giving his viewpoint, “I don’t really know what’s going on, but in my opinion, if you do that, it implies strongly that you’re only using her.”

Indeed. I felt the same way three days ago, even until now. If I don’t reply, I’m bad. If I reply, it will ultimately become bad. There’s no easy way out, is it?.

“I guess I made a mistake.” I bite my lower lip. “I shouldn’t have asked her in the first place.”

“Hm… But is she a sensitive person?” Hinata averts his eyes to the clean ceiling above.

“Sensitive as in?”

“Easily getting her feeling hurt?”

“Oh. That I don’t know. I wasn’t close to hi—her before.” Gosh, I almost misspoke, but I think I did a good job covering that up. “We’ve only been chatting for the past three days, so I don’t really know that much about her.”

“Hm…” Hinata closes his eyes and cross his arms altogether. “Maybe you can read her chat and never reply anymore, but that can create a straining relationship between the two of you, especially when you don’t know if she’s a sensitive person or no. Personally, I don’t like it if my friend does that to me without any specific reason. It feels that I’m hated by them.”

I nod in agreement. “Exactly.”

“Unless…” Hinata opens his eyes, arms still wrapping each other.

“Unless?” I repeat after him.

“Unless if you don’t reply after she says ‘okay’ or with something that actually can end a conversation.”

I lift my eyebrows. That’s a very good advice because Ushijima does that all the time. He mostly replies with either “okay”, “yes”, or “I see” and I’m the one who always tries to keep up with it. I’ve never thought of doing that before. Again, I wanted to project myself as an appreciative person.

Without waiting any longer, I take my phone from my shirt’s left pocket. As expected, there’s one message from Ushijima, received by me around ten minutes ago. I open the chat to briefly read through what—I hope—will be our last conversation.

 _ Ushijima _  
_I’m having lunch at the moment_

 _Me  _  
_I’m going to teach my friends again_  
_Enjoy your food!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Thank you_

“You know what, Hinata. I don’t really mind if she will get mad or some such. We’re not best friends, so not like it’ll matter.” I take a deep breath before closing the chat and putting my phone back in my pocket. “No, it really won’t matter at all.”

“Well… there’s one thing.” Hinata stares deep into my onyx eyes. “If she chats you again, you should reply. That shows how much she enjoys talking to you. If you don’t resent her, then I don’t really see the point of ignoring her?”

If Ushijima will chat me again.

I hold my tongue for a moment. I’m not that naïve. Ushijima might never show it clearly, but I know he enjoys his small conversation with me. There are many things to prove that he’s interested in me, but mainly is because of my background. He sees me like he sees Oikawa or any other well-recognized volleyball players. I totally understand if he wants to know more about me.

If only I weren’t a manager for Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team, then everything would be okay. I wouldn’t mind befriending him. I wouldn’t have to lie to everyone about this.

Once more, I take a deep breath before exhaling it to vocalize a single promise to Hinata, “Okay.”

* * *

Let’s say eight out of ten times, Kiyoko will always appear in the manager’s clubroom earlier than me. Usually, I show up after she’s done changing her uniform. I could do the same, had Kei not clung on me and sometimes dragged me around to random places. The only time when Kiyoko is a little bit late is the time when she has a group project, or she has to go to the library, or a particular teacher asks her a favor.

Same as today. She’s already there, but with an addition standing behind her. A cute blond girl with a short hair and a petite body. She ties some of her left-side hair into a ponytail with a blue star hairband. This is a creepy thing to say, but I want to offer her to sit on my laps and give her a big cotton candy. She’s that adorable.

“Good timing!” Kiyoko shouts cheerfully. “This is Yachi Hitoka from class five, just right besides your classroom. She’ll join our club as a manager on a trial basis.”

Trial basis? I’ve never heard that thing being done for a club manager before, but it can only mean that this Yachi Hitoka girl is somehow reluctant to join us. Perhaps Kiyoko forces her to come or she just wants to sightseeing. Whatever. I’m okay with everything as long as Kiyoko is happy.

Why am I that in love with her? Am I still straight?

“Nice to meet you. I’m [L/N] [F/N].” I smile friendly at her and she bows awkwardly at me. It’s obvious that she’s a very shy person. That makes her double adorable. God, I’m so weak toward cute things. I have to suppress my big desire to pinch her cheeks, but I’ll do it once we’re closer.

“N-nice to meet you!” Yachi balls her fists and slightly lifts her calves. Her tiny body shivers a bit from I don’t know what.

I only give her the same friendly smile as a reply. I think talking too much will scare her even more. I know some people who act like her and the easiest way to get their heart is to let the time take over everything. Don’t be too aggressive, unless if you want her to run and hate you forever.

“She’s only going to say hi today because she doesn’t bring her PE uniform, but tomorrow she’ll join us until six,” Kiyoko explains more.

“Oh, I see.” My mouth shapes into a perfect circle. “I hope you’ll join us, Yachi-san.”

“Just Yachi is okay! Aren’t we the same age?!” Yachi waves both her hands.

“Hahaha, right. Yachi. You can call me however you want. I don’t really mind.”

Yachi shyly nods before playing with her full fringes. Super cute.

“You go change first,” Kiyoko advises me. “I’ll introduce Hitoka-chan to everyone in the gym.”

“Okay. Take care.”

I’m aware of how Kiyoko calls Yachi with her first name, although they just met several hours ago. She did the same to me. On my first day of becoming the new manager, she called my first name without asking, so I followed her, but with _-senpai_ in the end.

I don’t really know how she interacts with her classmates, but probably she does the same as well. Weirdly but understandable enough, she never does that to the boys. I’m sure Tanaka and Nishinoya will kill for that.

Whatever. As long as Kiyoko is happy, I’m content with that. That point of view will never change.

* * *

I enter the gym at the same time when Kiyoko and Yachi are done with their quick introduction to the whole team. The latter gives a small goodbye to me before leaving for home. The former walks back to the manager’s clubroom to change her uniform.

Today, the boys won’t be having any match. They’ll just polish each other’s specialty. The wing spikers will spike and serve, while Nishinoya will try to receive them. Sometimes Daichi will help him. In my opinion, Nishinoya and Daichi are the perfect examples of well-rounded players. They’re always doing everything with one hundred percent of will. As long as they’re there, everyone’s on that side is doing good.

Then we have our middle blockers. They’re the saddest—or weakest. We do have Hinata who’s super energetic, but then we have Kei who’s super gloomy, to the point that it’s okay if he’s compared to a decade-old corpse. He blows away the light, thus nothing shines when he’s around. Aside from Yamaguchi, I’m the one who knows Kei the most and I’ve never seen him being so passionate about volleyball. That vexes me, but what ability do I have to change that? I’d rather give up.

“Ah, Kage!” I call Kageyama when he dashes toward me to take a ball that rolls freely on the floor. It’s actually my job to pick the stray balls, but I understand if Kageyama doesn’t want to wait for me who’s still standing still on the doorway.

“What?” He stops moving and turns his body at me.

“Has Hinata told you? Tomorrow during lunch break I can’t teach the two of you because I have a group project.”

“Come again?” It appears that he can’t really hear me between all these loud roars, so he walks closer.

“Tomorrow during lunch break I can’t teach you and Hinata because I have a group project,” I repeat slowly, but louder.

There’s a very long gap before I get one deep meaningful reply. “…damn.”

“Hahaha. Don’t mind. Go ask Kei.”

Kageyama clicks his tongue and I’m all prepared if he’ll snap. “As if he will help us… And your English is better than his.”

I giggle even more at his reaction. I knew that would happen, that’s why I suggested him to do so. Sometimes I can be a bully.

“Can you… please ask him on behalf of me and Hinata? Maybe he will listen to you.” Kageyama sounds more like whispering than speaking normally. To think of it, he always does this whenever he seeks for a help he finds degrading his pride. What a king and his dignity.

“No way. I won’t do things like that for you,” I refuse in a teasing tone. “He won’t listen to me, anyway.”

“Tsk. Fine, I’ll just ask Ono-sensei.”

“Only if she’s available.”

Kageyama opens his eyes as big as he can. “Why are you being mean? You were so nice before! Being with Tsukishima really changed you that much, huh?”

I crack a playful laugh, especially when Kageyama stomps away with a heavy frown on his forehead. I was just teasing him, but obviously, he takes it way too seriously. Hinata will have the same reaction, I’m sure of it.

* * *

Same like yesterday and the days prior to that, the club activity ends exactly at six p.m. After tidying every corner of the gym, I head back to the manager’s clubroom with Kiyoko. She talks a bit about Yachi and how she hopes for that tiny girl to join us. I smile and tell her that I feel the same. Two managers are okay, but three will be amazing—also, way less work.

Kiyoko then undress herself to change back to her uniform, while I unzip my shoulder bag and take my phone out of it. I don’t know if anyone realizes, but this is the first thing that I always do every time I enter the clubroom. I have to check whether there’s an important message from my parents or no. Sometimes they’ll tell me that they can’t come home or they can, but later than usual.

But what I perceive first is a short message from Ushijima. It’s very short that I don’t have to open the actual chat as I can just read it like that.

_Ushijima  
[L/N]?_

He calls my last name and all that Hinata has said come crawling back to me.

_If she chats you again, you should reply. That shows how much she enjoys talking to you. If you don’t resent her, then I don’t really see the point of ignoring her?_

Do I really have to?

“Kiyoko-senpai.” I make Kiyoko tilts her head to see me. “You used to be in the track and field club in your middle school, right?”

Kiyoko smiles lightly. “Yes. What about that?”

“Have you ever gotten close to someone from a rival team?”

Kiyoko raises both of her thin eyebrows. “Why are you asking that?”

“My friend from middle school is having that problem. She plays volleyball for her school, but she befriends a girl from a rival team. She asks me whether it’s a good thing or no, whether she should stop contacting her or no. I’ve never experienced something like that before, so I don’t know what to answer.”

I’m amazed at myself. I didn’t hesitate a bit in the process of telling that wholly made-up tale. I didn’t falter nor choke on my own words. There’s no sign of fabrication, not even a tad. Have I become a pathological liar? If yes, should I thank Ushijima for this?

“I don’t really see the point of not befriending someone just because they’re from a rival team,” Kiyoko responds smoothly while zipping her skirt. “Will you do the same to your family? Let’s say your sister or cousin is from the rival team. Does that mean you have to stop being their family?”

“...no.” My voice is as low as it can get.

“Then tell your friend that she worries about nothing. As long as they don’t talk about some confidential tricks or plans, then all is good.”

“Worrying about nothing… Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought as well…” I mutter.

“What?” Once again, Kiyoko raises her eyebrows, but this time while buttoning her top.

“Nothing.” I wobble my head. Truth be told, my heart feels warmer after hearing Kiyoko’s words. It’s simple, but absolute.

I unconsiously puff both of my cheeks, out of jealousy. It’s so unfair for Kiyoko to be beautiful, smart, considerate, and wise at the same time. She should share some of those personalities to people who need them. Like Kei, for instance.

When I’m done fighting with my own thought, I breathe a sigh of relief and I unlock the phone that I’ve been carrying with my left hand. I begin to type words that I think will be able to reciprocate everything.

 _Me  _  
_Ushijima-san?_  
_Sorry, I forgot to reply to your last chat!_

I’m not startled at all when that Shiratorizawa guy promptly reads my chat and replies back. It seems that he’s been waiting for me for a long time. He can be so random at times.

Just like me, actually.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Ah_

 _Me  _  
_Yeah, I’m so sorry!_  
_I think I read your chat during lunch break, when I went to the bathroom_  
_Then without replying, I locked my phone again_  
_Sorry!_

 _Liar, liar, liar!_ Half of me screams, but I brush it away. There are moments when it’s best to lie and right now is the example. I know it myself, I lie for good. 

 _ Ushijima _  
_I thought I did something wrong_

 _Me  _  
_What do you mean by something wrong?_  
_Give me an example_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I don’t know_

 _Me  _  
_Because you didn’t do anything wrong!_  
_I utterly, sincerely, completely forgot_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Is that so_

 _Me  _  
_Yeah_  
_But what is it, Ushijima-san?_  
_It feels like you were waiting for me to reply_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I was_

 _Me  _  
_Why?_

_ Ushijima _  
_Usually you will reply before club_  
_Today you didn’t_  
_It doesn’t feel right if you don’t reply for that long_

My fingers stagger. I won’t say this out loud to anyone—especially to my mother because she’ll lose it—but isn’t Ushijima being so cute? Am I her first female friend? Could be yes. If no, then he wouldn’t react this way. Could also be that she sees me as her sister. I get that a lot.

Okay. Granted, today isn’t my best, but two lovely things have occurred in my life. Yachi and Ushijima. I can’t ask for more.

 _Me  _  
_Oh, by the way, Ushijima-san_  
_We might be getting a new manager_  
_She’s so petite and pretty and cute_  
_All thanks to you_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Might be getting?_

 _Me  _  
_I think she’s still unsure about joining or not_  
_So she’s still in a trial basis_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Trial basis?_

 _Me  _  
_Yeah, Kiyoko-senpai asks her to look around first_  
_If she’s okay with the workflow of a manager, then she’ll become a manager_  
_If she isn’t, then she won’t_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I see_  
_But is it okay for you to tell me this?_  
_You said we shouldn’t talk about each other’s team_

Again, Ushijima is acting so dull, so innocent, so cute, so endearing, et cetera. I’m dying, caused by an overload delightment, triggered by him and only him.

For real, what is he? The super ace from Miyagi or just a big fluffy teddy bear? Even until now, I still have no idea. Not like I mind that much.

Oh, right. I have to explain before Ushijima gets funny again.

 _Me  _  
_Each other’s team SECRETS_  
_XD_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Ah?_  
_Okay_

 _Me  _  
_Don’t say “okay” if you don’t understand_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I do!_

 _Me  _  
_Hahahahaha XD_

I virtually type that, but I in fact laugh in real life as well. Kiyoko—who’s currently folding her PE uniform neatly and stacking it into her bag—gazes confusedly at me. I shake my head to indicate that everything’s alright. Thankfully, she’s not as nosy as other people, so she just goes back to her previous doing.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Why are you laughing?_

 _Me  _  
_Because you’re being so adorable_  
_Have I said this before?_  
_You’re nothing like I thought you would be_

There’s a good ten to fifteen-second pause before I get a new reply.

 _ Ushijima _  
_How did you see me before?_

 _Me  _  
_You’re huge and scary_  
_You stalked me when I was 13 (?)_  
_Your face is like this all the time: ( ಠ_ಠ )_

 _ Ushijima _  
_?_  
_Sorry, I didn’t mean to_

 _Me  _  
_No need to say sorry_  
_Just keep being you_  
_It’s okay_  
_I’m getting used to it_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Okay_

 _Me  _  
_Wait, I have to do something_  
_Wait a second_

I click on Ushijima’s LINE profile and change his name into “Nanako”. Previously, it was written formally as “Ushijima Wakatoshi”. Luckily, he uses a random forest picture as his display picture, so even if someone will snatch away my phone, no one will immediately find out. If they open the chat, then that’s the problem.

Wait, I’m such an idiot.

I can just enable the passcode lock to protect my LINE. Why didn't I do that since the beginning? There’s still a chance that my phone will be taken away when it's not locked, but at least it’s better than nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the next chapter, the heroine will finally show some of her new moves that has something to do with the title's summary. Yay!
> 
> And I love Ushiwaka. He's such a blessing. Yay!
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


	9. Thought of Becoming a Coach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Then have you ever thought of becoming a coach like them?!”_
> 
> I hold my breath and tongue.
> 
> Becoming a coach like my parents? Weirdly enough, I have never thought of that. Ever. But when Yachi suggests the idea, it doesn’t sound bad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> 2/3 of this chapter will be Tsukki-centric, so I'm sorry for those who are waiting for more Ushiwaka. It sure is hard to connect naturally with someone from another school, but I already have many ideas for him and the rest of his team. :)
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Whoa, it’s pouring again,” I tell no one as I leave Karasuno’s only library by myself. Not forgetting to mention that I take a moment to gaze up at the clock above the door that displays the current time, which is almost five in the afternoon. All of my fellow group project members are still working diligently inside, but I excuse myself to leave for a club activity’s purposes. I know it will end in an hour, but there’s simply something missing if I don’t show up. Perhaps I’m just too attached to everyone? That must be it since these people are like my own family, hence I need to at least see their face and make sure that they’re okay, even if it’s merely for a minute.

I stride a long hall with eyes mesmerized by the view outside the long murky windows, either because they need to be wiped clean or it’s all due to the effect created by everything beyond the glass. The clouds are so opaque and gray. Honestly, they make me all gloomy and sleepy that I want to go back to the library and recline in one of the armchairs provided by the school. Other than that, I don’t really have any strong opinion about rain. I don’t hate nor love it. I’m okay with it as long as it doesn’t erupt my schedule. Though I must admit, I adore the smell of the wet ground after everything stops—I think people name it petrichor or something scientifically smart like that.

A couple of seconds pass when I come to an abrupt realization that I don’t bring an umbrella with me. If I have someone to blame, then it has to be myself because I didn’t check the weather report for today, but who does? Maybe those who have enough free time to watch the morning news and that’s surely not me nor my parents. The problem is I don’t think Kei has an umbrella either. If I’m not mistaken, the boys’ clubroom has some stocks, but if I have the choice, I’d rather give them away. I know, I nurture my players a bit too much sometimes, but I don’t want them to catch any cold because they need to practice, study, et cetera. Simply put, they have many more commitments than a manager like me does.

“Wait! You! [L/N]! Aren’t you [L/N]?!”

All the tiny little things on my mind suddenly pop away when I hear a contralto voice screaming my name from behind. I turn my body around to see an unknown girl walking fast toward me. Her hair is a straight shoulder-length dark brown, her face is a so-so U-shape, her height is almost the same as Yachi, and the most distinguishing part about her is that her breasts are enormous. Only dumb people will believe that those are real because they’re too gigantic, compared to her small posture. I bet she’s using way bigger cups or stuff them with socks.

I don’t know why I’m commenting so much about her breasts, more than anything else that’s more crucial. The fact on why she’s calling me, for example?

“Yes?” I speak up when our distance is only less than a meter, at the same time as when she stops moving.

“I’m Tachibana Risa from the second year.” She points her right index finger at herself. “Can I ask you some questions?”

Some questions? I hope the skepticism rising inside my chest doesn’t rudely show up on my face, because in some way, I can already guess what kind of “some questions” she’s going to throw at me. Deep down, I really want to kindly refuse the impending conversation and leave, but out of politeness and curiosity, I nod once, allowing the lady to proceed with her speech.

“So… Um, are you… by chance…  dating Tsukishima Kei?”

Bingo.

I swear, this always happens. Since I got closer to Kei this mid-April, some girls that range from the prettiest until the quietest would randomly appear and interrogate me about him. Sometimes it happens when I’m being summoned to the teacher’s room, most of the times when I’m on the way to the toilet, but always when I’m alone like this. I suppose because they’ll get all flustered when Kei’s around? And obviously, they won’t possess enough courage to talk about their crush when they’re nearby, unless if they’re that lascivious. Whatever the real reason is, they’ll ask me bunch of questions and often some creepy ones—such as Kei’s address, home phone number, after club schedule, or habit before sleeping.

Just under a month ago, a very voluptuous girl from the third year halted me in front of Kiyoko’s classroom when I needed to talk to her about the new towels we were planning to buy. At the first hello, I thought she was nice like any other girls, but things quickly got disturbing when her first question was the brand of Kei’s favorite underwear. I saved myself from her by sprinting away through the crowd. One, I was terrified. Two, as if I knew the brand of his favorite underwear. Luckily enough, that girl didn’t stalk or threaten to dismember me for leaving her hanging like that.

According to Yamaguchi, Kei has been crazily popular since elementary school—maybe even kindergarten, but Yamaguchi hasn’t known him back then. At least once a week, a gorgeous girl will confess to him. Although he rejects any of them, that ritual still continues up to this day. I feel bad for Yamaguchi because he has experienced this disturbance longer than I. It really is bothersome.

But truth be told, I’m not that surprised. Aside from his absurd personality, Kei’s very tall, smart, and good-looking. He’s the tallest guy in the first year—maybe even in the whole school, if only I’m not too lazy to check. His physique is more to the skinny side, but still sturdy. He has a great torso, slim waist, and long limbs. The way he walks and stands are elegant. Even the way he wraps his headphones around his neck is so cool and I know a lot of girls who are attracted to boys with glasses.

I don’t want to praise him that much, but I can’t lie to myself. He is worth to be glanced twice—which actually happens all the time. Old or young, tall or short, it doesn’t matter.

“I’m sorry if I crossed any line!” the girl squeaks because I’ve only been giving her a poker face. “I heard some say that you’re not dating him him, but some say yes… so… I just want to make sure by myself…”

Alright. She seems nice, so fine. Not like this will cost me anything huge and besides, I assume it’s better if I give a satisfaction reply as soon as possible, therefore—I hope—she’ll leave me alone and all at once.

“We’re only friends.” I finally open my mouth, providing her something she longs to hear.

“Oh! Really?! Thank, God!” She joyfully beams. “Do you know what type of girl he likes?”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk about stuff that.” I straightaway tell the truth. Kei’s not a person who talks too much about himself. I learn his favorite food, movie, and music because I found out by myself, but I don’t really know anything about his background or family or things alongside those two. I one hundred percent believe that Yamaguchi the childhood friend knows more than anyone around here.

“Maybe you can ask—”

“No,” I interrupt her new request. “If you like him, you should work hard by yourself.”

The second year goes silent, but with eyes bigger than before. I understand. Again, this always happens every time I blatantly ignore a girl who wants to know more about Kei. Later on, they’ll label me as someone who’s so full of herself and many more superfluous over-crafted stories. Just because I have a free ticket to be near him, I act this conceited. Just because he notices me more than other girl even though I’m not an A-list young celebrity, I forget about how average I am. I don’t care what dirt they spread behind my back. That’s nothing new, in more ways than one.

“Then excuse me, I have club activity.” I don’t wait for her permission to walk away. I might hurt her and I’m sorry if I do, but I can’t think of any better treatment. Instead, she should’ve been grateful that I’m willing to lend my ears. Well, not like I expect that to ever come true.

* * *

I don’t visit the managers’ clubroom to change into my PE uniform because I have to pass a roofless ground. Meaning, I won’t bother myself to be soaked under this heavy rain. The club itself will maybe end sooner than the rain, so sweating a bit under my school uniform won’t give me any major fever. Besides, I won’t do anything tiring like usual. I’m sure everything’s already taken care by Kiyoko. All the bottles, towels, even all those small litters on the corners of the gym will never pass through Kiyoko’s monitoring that easily.

As usual, I greet everyone with a huge smile when I enter the gym. It’s not surprising when there are only a few who react as they are all deadly focused on their usual practice match. I need no time to realize that everyone seems more pumped up than yesterday. Perhaps it has something to do with the cold and calmness created by the raindrops? I don’t know how, but perhaps the answer is yes—or this is just me trying to create some rational explanations to make myself a bit clever today.

Soon enough, my eyes catch a figure of Yachi who stands with Kiyoko on the sideline, directly to the right of the gym’s main entrance, where I stand on. She wears a maroon tracksuit with her usual side-ponytail and a plain blue star hair clip. Even from a short distance, she looks so petite that I bet on money that her size is XS, compared to me who has a way bigger posture than most of my schoolmates. I don’t envy her body. I just won’t mind having a little sister or daughter like her because it’s cute.

As I take the first step to the two girls, I drop my shoulder bag carefully on the floor. They’ve seen me before, so they smile, with Kiyoko waving her right hand up in the air. Can I really join their circle? Sincerely from the bottom of my heart, I feel so unattractive to be standing between them. I know I mustn’t think so lowly about myself, but I can’t help it. Do these boys—excluded Tanaka and Nishinoya—know how lucky they are if Yachi will decide to become a manager? They’ll have two goddess, straight from the heaven itself.

“Good afternoon. I don’t know why it’s still raining out there,” I greet them as I follow it up with a topic. Actually, I mean it. Summer will come to Miyagi in four weeks, but the weather is already pretty heated. Therefore, I don’t expect any kind of heavy rain like this.

“Yeah… It’s cold… slightly…” Yachi adds. So after all, she’s not that quiet of a girl? I thought she would ceaselessly mute herself, unless if someone asks her something.

“Hahaha, it sure is.” Kiyoko chuckles with one fist in front of her mouth. “How was your group project? I thought you wouldn’t come today.”

“We’ll continue tomorrow.” I smile. I don’t think it’s essential to tell Kiyoko the truth—that I left earlier on purpose—as I don’t know whether she’ll be impressed or get angry. She’s typical girl who studies hard, hence I think she’ll opt the latter.

“I see.” Kiyoko smiles back at me, but way warmer. She can be the goddess for this Summer.

“By the way, Yachi.” I fixate to the shortest girl among us. “I know this is still too early, but have you decided to become a manager?”

“Oh, yeah… Um… About that…” Yachi throws her head down and rubs the back of her head with her right hand. “I still can’t decide… I don’t really know about volleyball…”

I put a crooked smile and frown a bit. “Does that really matter? Kiyoko-senpai knew nothing about volleyball when she joined.”

“Mhm. I’ve told her already.” Kiyoko nods twice.

“Yeah. Ah, then how about you, [L/N]?” Yachi asks me. That’s a very fast process for her to speak normally, unlike before.

Kiyoko takes a glance at me before turning back to face Yachi. I know the reason she does that. She wants to make sure that I’m okay talking about this matter. In fact, I am. My skin is as thick as it can be. It does hurt a bit—it will always hurt—but it won’t waver me.

“I used to play volleyball in my middle school,” I reply.

“Used?”

“Last year I got injured. A car driven by a drunkard hit me.”

Yachi’s facial expression changes in an instance. The way she expands her eyes how I imagine someone’s reaction when they spot a gigantic dinosaur for the first time. Simply hilarious, but it gets even worse when the girl she bows so deeply until I fear for her spine to break in two. No wonder if even Kiyoko startles in surprise because of her sudden—yet peculiar—reaction.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ask!” Yachi shrieks in terror, yet that makes me laugh, although Kiyoko is still stunned.

“It’s okay, Yachi! Why are you bowing?” I pat both of her shoulders. My hands move to her arms and I pull her body up.

“Still, I’m so sorry…” I don’t know why Yachi acts this sorrowful, only because of that. Sure, that shows how kind-hearted she is, but she seems to be easily overwhelmed by the smallest thing and that’s not good.

“I’m okay, Yachi. Don’t worry. My injury doesn’t make me less significant. I’m still super sharp.” I rotate my body ninety-degree to stare at the boys who are still playing earnestly. “See. Kageyama’s block is a tad too late, Azumane-san will blast through—”

I haven’t finished my sentence when what I speculate does happen. As always, Kageyama clicks his tongue with a big disappointment at himself, but behind that demeanor, he always tries to improve. I like that about him. In general, I like people who aren’t easily satisfied, who keep trying and improving, even when they’re already a prodigy who lie on top of the world.

“So cool!” Yachi praises me. She sways her body with both hands clenched intently in front of her chest. That small motion is simple, but enough to prick my heart. She looks like a fluffy yellow doll—maybe a chicken or a duck. I want to hug her, but I know that will make me a creep.

“[F/N]-chan has always had a good game sense, no?” Kiyoko tucks her hair behind her left ear.

“Are you asking or stating?” I’m thoroughly puzzled.

“Hahaha. Of course, I’m stating,” Kiyoko corrects herself while averting her eyes to Yachi. “Volleyball runs in her blood. Both of her parents used to be professional volleyball players and right now they’re coaching two powerhouse universities in Miyagi.”

“Kiyoko-senpai… Why are you the one telling her?” I puff my cheeks, although I won’t lie, I’m kind of flattered. My parents are weird, yes, but it has always been a proudful thing to hear people talk so highly about them. It boosts my class.

Unless if it’s followed up by “oh but their only daughter can’t play volleyball anymore? That’s bad”. Trust me, I get that eight out of ten times.

“Really?! That’s even cooler than before!” Yachi’s voice becomes pitchy, it’s very similar to a hungry kitten. “Then have you ever thought of becoming a coach like them?!”

I hold my breath and tongue.

Becoming a coach like my parents?

Weirdly enough, I have never thought of that. Ever. But when Yachi suggests the idea, it doesn’t sound bad at all. It even clicks with my vision. Good payment, praise-worthy title, still being near my favorite sport, making my parents happy, proving to everyone that I’m still useful, and other ceaseless posibilities. The problem is whether I’m capable or no. My parents became a coach when they were above thirty. I’m one-third their age at the moment. I can’t think that far ahead.

“Coaching is fun, but it’s not an easy job, Yachi. Not every player can become a coach. I don’t think I’m good enough,” I voice out my opinion as I shake my head with a small laugh.

Unfortunately, both Kiyoko and Yachi don’t take my statements with a grain of salt. They fix their eyes on me with this familiar look that I had for quite a lot of times after I got released from hospital. It’s the kind of look that tells me that what a waste if I give up now, that although I lost my beloved dream I mustn’t give up completely. It’s a pitiful look, but with a kind motive behind.

“I disagree.” Kiyoko’s the one who starts to speak again. “I’m with you all the time, so I know that you’re always commenting about our team, but you never say it out loud.”

“That’s because I feel bad to Ukai-san! Okay, I’m outspoken, but I know my limit! He’s a good coach, although sometimes… he chooses wrong people for the team…”

What I get is a gorgeous and phenomenal giggle—I don’t even know if that term even exists—from Kiyoko. “See? You have a really good game sense. It runs in your blood.”

“Look! Hinata is going to do that thing again! Is he going to make it?” Yachi’s exclaim make me shift back to the boys. What Yachi means is Hinata’s usual quick with Kageyama. There are Kei and Azumane who jump as high as they can to block him, but it’s futile. Hinata’s far too fast and can blast through those two easily. Beyond easily.

“Yes. It’s perfect, can’t you see?”

And what I say does happen again. That’s very obvious, isn’t it? The time and position when he bounds, his footwork, how his back curves, how his arms are angled. All of those combined with Kageyama who can set to him from any corner. It’s very obvious that Hinata’s going to hit the ball a bit harder than usual.

“No. We can’t.” Kiyoko wobbles her head, while Yachi is immersed in amazement besides her.

“Ugh, please stop talking about this! I’m so puzzled now!” I yelp in denial because on the back of mind, I can’t stop thinking of all the odd possibilities of becoming a coach. It must be impressive, if I’m able to.

* * *

Just less than five minutes after we finish the last set for the day, Takeda enters the gym with his trademarked clumsiness. Luckily, he doesn’t stumble into something and face-plant onto the cold floor. He does that all of the time, followed by a fierce nosebleed. It makes me very concerned about his safety, especially he’s so small and weak.

We gather in front of him and he informs us that tomorrow we’re going to have a practice match with Ouginishi High School—I sense that most of us have not heard about that school before. They saw us during Interhigh and asked for it. Obviously, Takeda agreed on spot. It’s been awhile since we have a practice match and usually it’s us who ask, not the other way around. Everyone—besides Kei—is so enthusiastic.

After listening to some constructive advices from Ukai, everyone’s dismissed from the club activity. As a manager, I still have to do some cleanings with Kiyoko and Yachi. I gaze at the window and I can tell that it’s still softly drizzling out there. As long as it’s not pouring heavily like before, then all is good. I won’t die just from getting wet a tad.

“[L/N]-chan, a moment please?” Just after I step thrice, Takeda calls out for. I don’t have any other choice than to step closer to him. Ukai stands on his left and stares straight at me, so most likely he knows what’s going on.

“Sure. What’s wrong, Sensei?” I respond politely.

“It’s about the school bus that’s supposed to bring us to the away game in Tokyo. Apparently, it’s already booked by another club. We don’t have enough budget to rent a new bus, so I’m just wondering if we can ask for a donation from your parents?”

I want to bawl as loud as I can. As a human being, there are so many subjects that I dislike, but the one about money or asking donation from my parents is something that makes me so uncomfortable. Everyone knows my parents have a lot of money from coaching. It’s a no brainer when Takeda assumes they’ll be willing to help this club, particularly when I’m the manager.

They don’t want to lend a hand. They said that they only want to spend their money on a powerhouse school, where they’re sure that those yen won’t go for nothing, where they’re sure that those yen can be repaid by high schoolers who can be scouted for their team. I still remember Takeda’s dejected face when I notified him about my parents’ decision. I felt so bad and I still do.

“I’ll try to talk to them tonight, but I don’t think they will change their mind…” I answer as soft as possible, so no one will misunderstand.

Takeda sighs. “I understand. Helping with the posters is something minor, compared to funding our bus.”

“Posters? O-oh! Yeah!” I laugh nervously as I remember about the lie that I told everyone. This is so dangerous. How come I almost forgot about that? I should be more careful next time.

“I’ll try to talk to some alumni. This problem will come again in the future, so it’s better if we prepare our own budget from now on,” Ukai cuts in.

I bite my lower lip. With a small goodbye, I bow down to the two grown-ups in front of me before walking away to Kiyoko and Yachi who are still picking some towels and bottles that scatter all over the gym. I’ll think of something else later, although it’ll be amazing if my parents will help.

* * *

“I have to go home now. My aunt will come to visit.”

As I leave the managers’ clubroom, I find Kei who’s waiting for me while leaning his back on a wall outside. Headphones around his neck, blue bag on his left shoulder, both hands on his hips, and some raindrops on his hair, face, and upper body. I’ve heard people say that humans can be so tempting when they’re wet—from sweat or normal water—and Kei surely proves that. He becomes so alluring and I have to admit it.

“This is gross to say, but you look good,” Instead of saying something relevant, I compliment his outer beauty. I have to state that as he doesn’t have a good-quality inner beauty whatsoever.

“What?” He confusedly frowns.

I grin like a Cheshire cat and shake my head slowly. “You’re actually very good-looking. Even more, if you shut up.”

And of course, I’m not awarded with a thank you, but with a big hand pulling my ponytail down. I thought today would be a record of “That One Day without Hair Pulling”, but no. Whatever. Not like this is my first time. I don’t even bother to yell at him or beg him to stop.

“So I’ll go home now as well?” I ask while fixing my ponytail a bit, but not retying it. I’m too lazy to do that because there’s a big chance that Kei will ruffle it again.

“Do you even have to ask that? Idiot.” Kei rolls his eyes. I don’t know why he reacts that way that since I’m sure, I don’t say nor do anything wrong.

“I’ll tell Hinata and Kageyama first.”

“I’ve told them.”

“Oh?” I lift my eyebrows. “Right. We’re one package, aren’t we? Seems like you did divorce Yamaguchi after you met me.”

“…what are you talking about?” Kei mumbles, his right hand hovering above my head, most likely preventing the rain to drop on me. “It’s getting damped. Let’s go.”

“Okay, okay.” I sweep his hand away and step forward, but he clutches on my right shoulder and drives me closer to him. I’m amazed of how he’s being careful enough not to bump my left shoulder to his body. It’s not his principle of behavior, that’s why.

“And this is the reason why everyone thinks we’re dating…” I sound discontented, but I don’t feel the need to release myself from him either. “Today when I left the library, there’s this girl from the second year asking me about you.”

“I don’t care.” I can’t see Kei’s expression, but I’m sure that he currently scowls.  He dislikes this topic very much and I understand that, but I just want to tell him. I think he has all the right to know.

“Like usual. She asked me whether we’re dating and about your type of girl. It was tolerable, compared to what I’ve had so far.”

Kei doesn’t give any comment and that’s fine. I never expect him to mutter anything beyond “I don’t care”, “annoying”, or “troublesome”.

“So…” I pause to inhale a short breath. “What’s your type?”

“Why do you want to know?” There’s no hitch to his reply.

“I can’t?” I raise my head and Kei immediately uses his hand to shove my head back down. His abusive side is so unnecessary.

“I won’t tell you,” he refuses right after.

“Hahaha. At least you have a type.” I chuckle. “I think you look good with someone like Yachi. Super tall and super short, that’s so adorable. Both of you are also blond. Perfect match for each other.”

“Don’t tell me what to choose.”

I notice Kei’s voice trembles a bit—it sounds more like a growl than his normal speaking timbre—so once more, I gaze up at his face. And he looks down at me. Black meets golden. There’s a small interval before I begin to carefully open my mouth.

“Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.” The answer is concise.

“…okay.” I’m suspicious, but it’s better if I let him go as he’s not a person that likes to be pestered—even though he does that to other people all the time. “Anyway, Yachi and Kiyoko-senpai told me that I have a good game sense and that I should become a coach. Do you think so?”

“Being a coach? Well… It’s better if you do something with your life. I mean, be useful, at least. I don’t want you to coach me, though. I’m afraid I’ll lose a match because you’re The Cur—” I don’t let Kei finish his sentence because I halt and stamp on his right foot as hard as I can.

He jolts and this is my chance to sprint—since I know he’s going to take a great revenge on me soon—but he doesn’t spare me a second to do all of that. He wraps his left arm tightly around my neck. I guarantee I’m going to die in a minute if he doesn’t let go.

“Let go…” I quiver like a fish without water while stabbing my ten well-maintained nails on his arm. Sadly, none of them are pointy enough to prick anything until it bleeds and he’s wearing his long-sleeve _gakuran._ In conclusion, this is futile as it won’t hurt him at all.

“No. Say sorry first.”

“You say sorry! W-why me…” It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. Is he really going to end my life like this? At least, do it classy with style.

“I couldn’t care less.”

“Kei…”

“Yes? Where’s the ‘sorry’?”

“S-sorry…”

He wears this nasty smirk before taking back his arm, much to my relief. I inhale and exhale a very long deep breath like I’ve been living under a rock for ten years. He’s crazy. If only he weren’t my close friend, then I would’ve sued him for violence against women a long time ago.

“I hate you.” I swear to him after my oxygen is fully back.

“I hate you more.” He doesn't want to lose.

“I hate you even before you hate me.”

“You mean in reverse?” He walks a step closer and grab a good hold of my left wrist. It doesn’t take long for our fingers to casually intertwine as he guides me to walk side by side with him. We act like nothing has happened. It’s always been like this.

“If you hate me, then why are you always touching me like this? Are you a _tsundere_?” I throw him another remark because I won’t give up.

“Why do you want to be touched by me? Are you a _tsundere_?”

“So creative, aren’t we, Kei?”

Kei squints behind his glasses. “Tsk. Can’t you shut up for once?”

“No, you shut up.”

I don’t get anything back—I suppose Kei is tired or can't reply with something snarkier—but his fingers are tightening up on mine. I grin and swing our hands playfully. I have to admit. Every day is fun when Kei is around.

Wait. Am I a masochist? I hope not. I’m just a kind girl who’s able to control her emotion.

“Do you remember when you told me that your parents prohibit you from dating anyone before you graduate from high school?” Kei opens up another conversation. It’s weird that he still remembers this small thing that I told him more than two months ago, but okay.

“Yeah, but then they’re always trying to match me up with someone…” My tone is mournful enough to convey my hardships of having eccentric parents.

“I like that.”

“What?” I turn my head to Kei, although he doesn’t look back at me like before.

“I won’t date anyone before I graduate from high school.”

“Oh my God. Kei, are you being serious?!” I jokingly gasp, eyes expanding in terror. “Hang on! Did you hear that?!”

“What?” This time, Kei only glances at me through the edges of his eyes. Several dents are covering his forehead.

“That’s the sound of fifty hearts, breaking apart, shattering all over our school. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I keep clicking my tongue and wobbling my head. I think I enjoy this a bit too much.

And Kei laughs genuinely, until he decides to abruptly end that rare pleasant thing with an obnoxious demand, “I’d be happier if you could exaggerate a bit less. Your words are so cheesy, they don’t sound very nice to my ears.”

What? Why did he say that? Seriously, I wish every one of those fan girls knew about his disgusting mouth. Now I feel bad for them liking this person as they could’ve saved that spot for someone more human.


	10. The Princess’ Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Finally, the Cursed Princess is useful.”
> 
> I smile. I’m surrounded by these aggressive boys, yet I’m so excited, happy, and sad at the same time. This feeling is almost the same as when I used to play in tournaments. People are cheering me, trusting me, asking me for their next moves. This is the best. I can’t describe how much my heart misses it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re already on chapter 10 with more than 40k words! :o  
> I sense this fic will SURELY be more than 100k, so yeah… I hope you guys will stick with me until the end!
> 
> Important!  
>  ~~\- Every time you see _[Sent a sticker.]_ , it’s a hyperlink. So sorry for the inconvenience, but please open them! They're cute and funny! ♥~~  
>  **^ Edited. Please see the notes on Chapter 26.**  
>  \- And I should ask LINE to pay me some money since I promote their app so much around here…  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“If I say I don’t want to donate, then I don’t want to donate. Isn’t that clear enough? Are your teachers stupid?”

I snort at my mother while chewing my second bite of _tamagoyaki_. My eyes roam back and forth from the woman who’s busy wiping some kitchen counters in front of her to the TV that she’s turned on but doesn’t even take a glimpse at. My father isn’t home yet, but I know he too will say the same sentence to my request, although less harsh than his wife, undoubtedly.

Now the only thing left is to craft some mild and kindhearted words as an explanation to Takeda. Nah, probably I’ll just go full in with “sorry, but they rejected, thank you”. I don’t really want to be too straightforward because he’s such a good teacher, but he should expect nothing more from my parents. He has the biggest heart ever, so I’m positive that he’ll survive a small salt on his heart.

“Make sure Karasuno goes to the Spring Cup, then I’ll help,” my mother reminds me of something that I’ve known all along. “But do you have any promising players that can be scouted by me or your father?”

My parents have asked me this several times before. The first time was the very next day after I became a manager, in which I replied with “I don’t know” because I just met all of them. The second time was after our first practice match with Aoba Jousai. I mentioned Nishinoya, my father had previously heard that name and agreed, while my mother only nodded her head. The last time was after the Interhigh preliminaries. I stayed with Nishinoya, but I added Kageyama.

Both of my parents flinched upon hearing that surname. They knew Kageyama, hence they also knew how bad he was in cooperating with other players. I explained that true, there were times when he was so hard on himself and people around him, but what’s important was how fast and much he had evolved only in less than three months. I offered them to watch our match recordings to prove my point right, but they declined out of laziness. Fine, like I would quarrel for that.

“It’s still Kageyama and Nishinoya,” I answer after five seconds of swimming on my own mind.

“How about that number ten?” my mother proceeds swiftly to another question. “You mentioned him several times. About how he can jump almost a meter high?”

“Yeah. His name’s Hinata Shouyou. He spikes while closing his eyes, all because of Kageyama. It’s not with his own power. Not yet.” I take a mouthful of rice with my black melamine chopsticks, then move to a small cut of grilled beef sausage.

“I love how you say ‘not yet’.” My mother rotates her body one hundred eighty degrees to face the only sink in our kitchen and starts to wash some plates under the loud stream of water. “But it’s really troublesome to be short like that, unless if he’s a libero. No matter how talented or a prodigy he is, he’ll never beat someone with the same ability, but way taller.”

“Mhm.” I bob my head, even when I know my mother can’t see. I don’t know if I’ve told anyone this or no, but her height is around one hundred seventy-five centimeters and my father is a bit over one hundred ninety. No wonder I’m bestowed with a good height for a pure Japanese girl—one hundred sixty-eight point three and still growing.

But it’d be weird if I were short. The only explanation would be that my mother was cheating with someone else or that I was born from a bad egg.

“Is Tsukishima Kei any good? He’s as tall as your father, isn’t he? And he’s also a middle blocker, same as your father.” This is the first time my mother asks me about Kei. I thought she wasn’t into him at all, but okay. Not like I have a choice to flee from this conversation in peace.

“Yeah, he’s the tallest in our team, but quite weak for a middle blocker.  He has all the gifts, but I don’t think he’s that committed to volleyball.”

“What?!” My mother leers viciously at me over her shoulder. “Then don’t date him! Just date someone else! Don’t you dare to be with someone who won’t pay his bills through volleyball!”

My first reaction is to facepalm. If I could, I would slap my forehead with both hands until they create a distinctive smacking sound. Why are we now talking about this dating subject? I thought she was being a serious mother for once, but apparently, that’ll never come true. I’m so thankful that my father isn’t here because he too will never let me off of this topic, therefore will only be adding burden to my shoulders.

I sigh as I no longer set my attention to my mother. Just after I take a sip from a brown plastic glass full of green tea, the screen of a phone that I put near my bowl of steaming rice brightens up. It’s a LINE notification from Ushijima. I’m not doing anything else besides consuming food and liquid, so I don’t wait any longer to grab the phone and unlock it.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Sorry, I was done with the night practice ten minutes ago 8:17 PM_  
_I’m eating now 8:17 PM  
_

My lips curl cutely at Ushijima’s “sorry”. He always acts so remorseful if he doesn’t directly reply to me when he actually has the chance to. He may not seem like one, but I’m sure he can be the most loyal friend anyone could ever wish for. He will never leave his friend behind. He will hear all their complaints even after midnight, even when his eyes are half-lidded.

 _Me  _  
_ 8:17 PM Enjoy the food~ _  
_ 8:17 PM I’m also having dinner _  
_ 8:18 PM What kind of food that a prestigious school as Shiratorizawa provides? _  
_ 8:18 PM I’ve never asked that, but I’m super curious   
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Many, but I like this 8:18 PM_  
_[Sent a picture.] 8:18 PM  
_

I’m presented with a big plate of familiar things. Around two cups of cooked rice, some bite-size pieces of beef, a very thick dark brown reddish sauce, some sliced button mushrooms—I guess—and some peas scattered around. It’s already half-eaten. I’m sure this one is Ushijima’s first portion as he just finished his match ten minutes ago. I’m hurt from thinking that he’ll eat another big portion like this, yet still maintaining that kind of gorgeous posture.

Look at me. A small scoop of rice. A small portion of _tamagoyaki_. A small piece of beef sausage. A big portion of vegetables stir fry with tofu. Still growing fatter with each passing day.

 _M e_  
_ 8:18 PM Curry?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_No 8:18 PM_  
_Hayashi rice 8:18 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:18 PM That’s basically curry, isn’t it………?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_It’s not 8:18 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:19 PM It is  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_8:19 PM_  
_It’s not 8:19 PM  
_

I gasp, but not piercingly enough to attract my mother. Hands down, everyone, Ushijima Wakatoshi just sent me a sticker. We’ve been chatting each other for almost a week. I’ve been using a lot of emoji and stickers myself, but he has never done the same. This is the first time he has ever shown that side of him. With a cute sticker. A relatable sticker that has something to do with our topic.

I know it’s a small thing, but that small thing is everything—concerning this one is the master of stoicism, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

 _Me_  
_ 8:19 PM Hahaha XD_  
_8:19 PM_   _  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_ 8:19 PM_

Another sticker? I’m so content. I can’t stop smiling.

_ Me _  
_ 8:19 PM That’s so you, Ushijima-san_

_ Ushijima _  
_What is? 8:20 PM_

_Me_  
_ 8:20 PM That sticker is so you_  
_8:20 PM_   
_8:20 PM 80% of your replies are always that “?”_  
_ 8:20 PM Or, it used to be that way before you became more talkative_

_ Ushijima _  
_? 8:20 PM_

_ Me _  
_ 8:20 PM See you did it again!  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_? 8:21 PM_  
_What 8:21 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 8:21 PM Stop it!  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Oh 8:21 PM_

I want to explain, but Ushijima has already sent another new message.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Oh, I understand now 8:21 PM_  
_Sorry, habit 8:21 PM  
_

 

 _Me_  
_8:21 PM_ _You’re so funny because you’re doing everything so genuinely_  
_ 8:21 PM I’m dead ;_;_

I mean my every single syllable because I’m trying my best to not laugh. I don’t want my mother to notice my oddity and interrogate me with bunch of nosy questions. I know she’ll do that. I know how exaggerating her reactions will be if she knows that I’ve been chatting Ushijima. So far, everything is under control, so I don’t want to mess with that.

_ Ushijima _  
_Sorry? 8:21 PM_

I bite my lower lip and grimace a tad. I’m absolutely sure that my face resembles those who haven’t gone to the bathroom for five days straight. All because I have to suppress this euphoria inside my chest.

 _Me_  
_ 8:21 PM Hahaha, there’s nothing to be sorry about_  
_ 8:21 PM Let’s talk about something else  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Ah 8:22 PM_  
_Okay 8:22 PM  
_

I exhale a deep breath.

_ Ushijima _  
_So, anyway, curry and hayashi rice taste different 8:22 PM_

And I chuckle uncontrollably after a small puff leaves my mouth. I just can’t. This guy is so indefinable to the point of being strangely comedic.

“What’s wrong?” My mother frowns at me. It appears that she’s done a minute ago with washing dishes, because she now stands in front of our three-door plain white refrigerator to get a cartoon of juice out of it. I can’t really tell from far, but I think it’s guava, her favorite.

“Nothing. It’s my club group chat. Everyone’s being ridiculous,” I lie, obviously.

My mother snatches a small glass from one of the shelves behind her before pouring the juice in there. “Go finish your food, unless if you want to clean up by yourself.”

“Okay. I’m almost done.” I put down my phone for a moment, hold my chopsticks, grab two big pieces of _tamagoyaki_ at once, eat them, and go back to my phone.

_ Me _  
_ 8:22 PM You’re still thinking about that???_

_ Ushijima _  
_? 8:22 PM_

_ Me _  
_ 8:22 PM Ushiwaka stop doing that “?” XD_  
_ 8:22 PM It tickles me!_

_ Ushijima_  
_8:23 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 8:23 PM Yes, you’re indeed a teddy bear_  
_8:23 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Then you’re the rabbit 8:23 PM_

_ Me _  
_ 8:23 PM Cony the rabbit? XD_

_ Ushijima _  
_This one 8:23 PM_  
_8:23 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 8:23 PM Yes, that’s Cony the rabbit (a girl)_  
_ 8:24 PM The bear is called Brown (a boy)_  
_ 8:24 PM You don’t know that? :o  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_No 8:24 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:24 PM Well, I won’t expect you to know actually_  
_ 8:24 PM They’re also husband and wife XD  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_A bear and a rabbit? 8:24 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:24 PM Hahaha_  
_ 8:24 PM I had the same reaction when I found out :p_  
_ 8:24 PM Wait, I need to search something_

I close my LINE app and head to Google to search for an info that’s actually very unimportant, but I just have to. The urge is massive and I have to fulfill it up somehow. Once I find it, I copy everything’s needed then paste it into my chat with Ushijima.

 _Me_  
_ 8:25 PM The description of Brown:_  
_ 8:26 PM Brown is a brown bear. He has small, black eyes, but he never shows his emotions through his face._

I hesitate to type my next words, but might as well. I believe Ushijima won’t be all upset or moreover, block me. Granted, I still don’t know anything about him. I’m just sure that he’s not that crazy nor unstable.

 _Me_  
_ 8:26 PM “he never shows his emotions through his face.”_  
_ 8:26 PM ^ sounds so much like someone  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_ 8:26 PM_

That’s adorable.

 _Me_  
_ 8:26 PM Ushijima-san, didn’t this happen for real?_  
_8:26 PM_   


_ Ushijima _  
_No? 8:26 PM_

_ Me _  
_Yes!_  
_ 8:26 PM At the wedding party, you did that to me_  
_ 8:26 PM Specifically when I went to call Kiyoko-senpai  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Is that so? 8:27 PM_

_ Me _  
_ 8:27 PM Don’t act innocent!_

_ Ushijima _  
_Because I think it’s more like this 8:27 PM_  
_8:27 PM_

_ Me _  
_ 8:27 PM No D:_  
_ 8:27 PM You’re not that cute and I’m not that mean_

_ Ushijima _  
_You’re not mean 8:27 PM_  
_You’re energetic 8:27 PM  
_

“Go finish your food!!! Your friends can wait!!!” My mother screams from the top of her lungs and startles me. I look up to see her giving me a death glare. I’m already cursed enough, so I don’t see the benefit of getting another one from her. Once she moves her body away, I type some fast words to warn Ushijima, therefore he won’t wait cutely for me.

 _Me_  
_ 8:28 PM Be right back_  
_ 8:28 PM My mother is whining because I haven’t finished my food ;_;  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_That’s fine. Go eat first 8:28 PM_  
_8:28 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 8:28 PM Ushijima-san, you’re not drinking any beer before you’re 20!_

_ Ushijima _  
_What? 8:28 PM_

I giggle all by myself. Foolish me, I fail to remember that no matter what happens, Ushijima is a mere clueless round teddy bear. Sometimes he takes everything literally, sometimes he’s being too stern. People around him are the ones who have to adjust and that’s what I understand the most about him.

* * *

“Thank you for understanding, Sensei,” I bow lightly to Takeda before leaving the teacher’s room, together with Kei who stands close behind me. He’s wearing his official jersey, but with an addition of Karasuno’s black volleyball jacket that’s not zipped in the middle.

Today is Saturday, the day when we’re going to have a practice match with Ouginishi High School. Being in the school when no one else’s around is somewhat extraordinary, one way or another. I want to scream, just to know how much my voice will echo throughout the halls. Unfortunately, I don’t want to build any unnecessary tantrum and get double kicks from everyone.

“I’m sleepy,” Kei says, before yawning moderately. “When will the other school come?”

“In three hours from now.” I gaze at Kei from the peripheral of my black eyes.

“Then why do we have to gather at nine a.m.…? Even Ukai-san hasn’t come yet.”

“Hahaha. I knew you would think that. My mother—” I instantly close my mouth as I realize that Kei’s going to be so insulted by what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him about how my mother asked if he’s any good as a volleyball player and I said no.

Today, the atmosphere between us has been calm and smooth. I don’t want to ruin that.

“What about your mother?” Kei lifts his left eyebrow. I know him very well to understand that he won’t let this conversation go until I give him what he wants. Yes, he does control this whole relationship. I’m the one who always have to satisfy him and I never get anything in return. Unless if yelling, mocking, and touching hands are counted.

I sweep some strands of hair from my forehead while at the same time, my brain quickly constructs a believable story to tell. “So yeah. My mother. You know, she—”

“You two!”

Both Kei and I stop walking and turn around to see Takeda running out of the teacher’s room, leaving the door open behind. He approaches us as he skips some steps that I hope won’t make him fall. The distance between us isn’t even ten meters, so he can actually take his time.

And just a small regard. I think I’m saved by him. Thank you from the deepest part of my heart.

“Ukai-kun just called me. He can’t come today. He has to go with his mother somewhere, he didn’t tell me the detail. Please tell the rest, but will you be okay?” There are so many subject matters that come from Takeda, but overall I get the gist of it.

“We’ll be okay,” I reply. I think they boys will be okay because this practice match is versus an unknown school, not Aoba Jousai or Shiratorizawa. Well, actually, no matter what happens, I’ll still say that we’ll be okay so Takeda won’t rush himself.

Takeda smiles faintly before heading back to the teacher’s room. Once I’m sure that he can’t hear me talk, I pull Kei’s left arm and make him ducks his head a bit—which is insulting and thoughtful at the same time.

“You’ll be okay, right, Kei?”

Kei shrugs nonchalantly. Of course. My mistake for asking this kind of question to someone apathetic like him. I should’ve asked Sawamura as he’s the team captain who can lead and give us some motivations without any need for a coach.

“…if only you could be more like your parents,” Kei scoffs.

“What?”

“You could’ve coached us.”

“Why would I coach you?” I withdraw my hand from his arm.

His next move is to stare at me condescendingly, like I’ve done a bad deed. “You told me that you want to be a coach.”

“I never said that! It was Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. After all, I don’t think you’re capable enough.” Kei snigger before he continues to walk. I have no other option than to follow him close by with ten fingers clasped tightly behind my lower back.

Honestly, I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m thinking about. I don't know whag I should do. At last, I don’t want my personal confusion to annoy Kei, so I won’t tell him any of that.

* * *

I spend the next two hours with both Kiyoko and Yachi. We line up some chairs, wipe and re-wipe some wet floors, prepare some bottles and towels, arranged some jerseys that haven’t been worn by the owners, and some more. Yachi’s movement is pretty slow, but I guess it’s because she’s still not used to the workflow. I hope she’s not innately clumsy as that won’t work well with being a manager—and will drain my energy the most, because I’ll spend the next two and a half years with her.

While I do my job, my eyes keep inspecting those who are standing on the court. Kageyama and Hinata are practicing their usual quick. Nishinoya is practicing his already God-like receive. Then there’s Yamaguchi who stands on the sideline, trying to perfectize his jump float serve. He has tried so hard, but seven out of ten times, the ball will touch the net. When it does go in, someone from the other side will be able to receive it. Even Kei and Hinata are able to—and they’re the worst in receiving.

I have no idea how to do a perfect jump float serve. I tried it before, but that wasn’t my way or style. I could score a lot without, hence I didn’t see the benefit of mastering it.

In conclusion, I can’t give any spesific jump float serve advice to Yamaguchi. What I can do is giving one or two tips for doing a better serve. My heart tells me that those advice can help Yamaguchi, even if it’s not much. It’s always better than nothing.

“Yamaguchi,” So I mutter Yamaguchi’s name as I walk and stand right next to him.

“Yes?” Yamaguchi tilts his head to me. His palms are holding a ball tightly.

“You always jump too high when you do the serve.”

Yamaguchi raises both of his eyebrows in confusion. “Yes?”

“You jump too high and make the ball drops faster to the ground. Try to only raise your heels.” My left index finger points a random spot on the floor.

“Before I toss the ball or after?” Yamaguchi throws me a serious question and look. I’m happy because that proves I’m worth to be listened to.

“After. You toss the ball up, then you run slowly to the front like you’d normally do. Before you hit the ball, raise your heels. Don’t jump at all. Only raise your heels. That will make the trajectory lower, but more stable. In the end, it won’t touch the net.” I slap Yamaguchi’s back hard to kickstart his engine. “I suppose this won’t work for the others, but it will for you. I know your movement.”

“Okay, then I’ll try.” Yamaguchi tighten his grip on the ball. He arches his lips down for a moment before doing exactly what I advise. He tosses the ball like usual, runs, raises his hells, and hits the ball. I don’t know anything about hitting technique for a jump float serve, so I can’t tell whether it’s good or no.

The ball maneuvers to Nishinoya who’s already in a perfect stance to receive it. I see him smiling—maybe because he knows he’ll get it—but it doesn’t work that way. The ball curves to his right. He tries his best to extend his arms, but it makes him fall knees first. And I laugh because it’s amusing to watch.

“That’s good, Yamaguchi!” Nishinoya shouts from the other side.

“Ah!!! You’re so amazing!!! Thank you!!!” Instead of replying to Nishinoya, Yamaguchi squeezes both of my arms and position my body to face him. His eyes are glistening with happiness and also tears? I think?

This is awkward. The only person I want to use as a sanctuary right now is Kei, but he’s going to the toilet.

“Yeah. You’re welcome. Apparently, it works.” I chuckle.

“It should work! As expected from you! You should teach me again! Please?!” He can’t stop praising me and if anyone says that being praised doesn’t feel good at all, they’re lying.

“What’s wrong?”

I twist my head to my left. It’s Sawamura, walking at a good pace toward me with Sugawara behind him. To think of it, almost everyone is looking at me. Everyone besides Hinata and Kageyama who currently dwell in their own spiking world.

“He gave me an advice to jump less so I could serve better and it did work!” Again, Yamaguchi promotes me. If volleyball doesn’t work, he can be a host or marketer. He’ll do well, I swear.

“Oh! That’s good, isn’t it? She played volleyball since a very young age, so I’m not that surprised if she can give you many great advice,” Sawamura adds in between a proud grin. His arms akimbo and no one has ever questioned that gesture, simply because he always acts like a father figure to us.

“Mhm. I won’t be surprised either. So… do you have any advice for me?” This time, Sugawara asks.

I do have many things to say to each one of these boys, but I could only project it to Kiyoko in a mumbling form. I don’t even say anything to Kei who’s basically my significant other. I just feel bad. I don’t want them to see me as _Mrs. Know It All_ , even though I’m not longer competing in this world.

“Don’t worry. I won’t get mad.” Sugawara smiles and my heart warms up. Isn’t he the same as a prince charming on a white horse? He’ll look amazing to cosplay as one. I’ll date him for a day.

“Okay. You’re sometimes too obvious when you want to toss to someone.” My fingers play with my right fringes. “So… You tend to glance at the person you want to toss to. Kageyama doesn’t do that.”

“Oh, actually that’s right!” Sugawara bends his lips to a perfect “o”. “I have to let go of that habit!”

“It’s better if you can use that as a decoy. For example, you want to toss to Sawamura-san, but you glance at Yamaguchi. Many setters do that.”

Sugawara bobs his head rapidly with a big grin framing his good-natured face. I’m glad if he agrees with me.

“What’s up? What’s up?” I haven’t even blinked when Tanaka joins in, followed by Nishinoya and Azumane.

“[L/N] seems to be able to give us accurate advice about volleyball,” Sawamura’s the one who responds to Tanaka.

“Oh!” Nishinoya squeaks, his big eyes get even bigger. “Give advice to me!”

Do I have to? Nishinoya’s already too perfect. I have never known a libero as good as him. He even won the best libero award two years ago. Am I right or am I right?

“How about me?” Azumane asks in his usual airy and flat timbre.

“Wait! The _kouhai_ first!!!” Tanaka shoves Azumane to his left so he can show himself to me more.

I smile. I’m surrounded by these aggressive boys, yet I’m so excited, happy, and sad at the same time. This feeling is almost the same as when I used to play in tournaments. People are cheering me, trusting me, asking me for their next moves. This is the best. I can’t describe how much my heart misses it.

* * *

“Finally, the Cursed Princess is useful.”

I sit on the floor while tying my shoe laces when Kei comes and kneels in front me. He holds an orange water bottle in his right hand and gulps it occasionally. I don’t say anything back because his words aren’t that painful anymore. Now I want to laugh. It’s depressing to see how far I’ve gone through the days of him calling me with that nickname until I graciously embrace it.

The match with Ouginishi High School ended half an hour ago. The school went back five minutes after we waved goodbye to each other. They were mediocre, so it didn’t cost us anything to win all the sets. Still, it was a great experience. Maybe even too great for me.

I managed to give advice to almost everyone and when they listened, they improved. I told Tanaka to dilate his fingers a bit whenever he spikes, thus it would smash better. He did it and I was right. I told Azumane to stop focusing too much on the ball when he serves and take his time to look at his surrounding because he tends to miss a lot. He did it and I was right—although twice or thrice, he still misses.

That’s okay, that’s a common sense. No matter what the coach says, the players should practice a lot until their skills sharpen. If mere words can change someone so much, then everyone can become a professional volleyball player. That’s why both sides—the coach and the player—should go hand in hand. Everything should be balanced.

I understand. I might think too highly of myself from doing basically nothing, but I’m just so overwhelmed by happiness. I don’t know what else to say. I’m too happy. I’m happy too much. I’m happy overload. I should stop before my words won’t make any sense.

“Say… I failed some blocks, but you didn’t give me any advice,” Kei starts to speak to me after he puts down his water bottle on the floor.

“I’m a bad blocker myself, Kei. My father’s the good one.” I shift to tie my left shoe lace.

“You’re not a setter and you gave advice to Sugawara-san.”

Right. He can read through me on this one.

“The only advice that I can give to you will be…” I pause to avert my eyes from my shoe to his eyes, although my head’s still tilted down. “Answer my question first?”

“Depends.”

“Please…” I whine.

“Tsk.” Kei rubs his super soft hair roughly. “Fine.”

“Okay.” My tone changes back into its normal state—which shows how capable I am in acting. “Why do you play volleyball?”

Kei doesn’t give an immediate answer like I thought he would. He looks straight at me, but without his archetypal high temper. He just feels tentative. Perhaps.

“Just because I want to play sports,” he finally answers after almost thirty seconds of silence.

“Then why volleyball?” Anyone would ask the same question as mine.

“Just because.”

Just because. Seriously? Does he think I’ll believe that?

“Ah. I understand.” I stand up, albeit my eyes are still locked with his. “I don’t think you’re passionate about volleyball, so the only advice that I can give you is to be more passionate about volleyball. That’s it. I’ll clean up a bit.”

I dash forward and leave the lean guy behind. I don’t know what expression he makes at the moment. I don’t know if he turns his head to send me off. I don’t know if he rises up from the floor to follow me. One thing that I know is that he’s lying to me.

There must be a reason why he chooses volleyball. Either he loves it, either he wants to be fit, either he’s curious, either he wants to be with Yamaguchi, either he wants to get close to Kiyoko. There’s always a reason why someone does something. “Just because” isn’t one of it.

But I won’t demand any sort of further explanation from him. That’ll be suicide and unkind as I’ve done the same thing. I’ve lied to him. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn’t intend to write Ushiwaka x Reader based on Brown x Cony, but one day I realized that these four are so alike. The stickers did all the justice by themselves. XD


	11. The Princess’ Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Now… what am I—oh, yeah! I want to tell you about my day!”_
> 
> _“Mhm.”_
> 
> _“Don’t get bored, please?”_
> 
> _“I won’t.”_
> 
> And just like that, I know how I’ll spend the next twenty minutes on phone with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> It took me some nights to finish this chapter. At first, I wanted to jump right into the away game in Tokyo, but then I realized that the pacing would be too fast. I had to rewrite and as the final result, I think it’s better like this (because I could put some Ushiwaka hohoho). ;)
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

_“I bring all the materials from last week.”_

_I smile and wave my hands slowly at the black-haired guy who walks into this small silvery room._

_He doesn’t smile nor wave back, but his feet travel closer to my bed and he stops once he stands on my left._

_I don’t mind that._

_His gesture doesn’t mean anything special as I know all the genuine kindness inside._

_“Thanks.”_

_“Yeah. You’re welcome.”_

_There’s a small pause._

_There’s a tense look, cast by his dark brown irises._

_Then he sighs and decides to move on to a new topic—all I know, it’s solely for my sake._

_“When will your rehabilitation begin?”_

_“In two weeks.”_

_“So you’ll stay for a month in total?”_

_“More, of course. The rehab will take some time.”_

_“And they haven’t come to visit?”_

_“Who?”_

_My breath’s stuck when I catch on what he meant._

_“Oh. No.”_

_“Seriously? Not even once?”_

_“No.”_

_It’s his turn to halt his words for just a moment before he starts to pronounce them again._

_“Don’t cry.”_

_“Huh? No way. You’re the crybaby one.”_

_Seemingly, I tick his flame because what I get is nothing but a vexed expression._

_I laugh as I think to myself, how adorable is that?_

_I honestly feel elated whenever he’s here with me._

_He’s irreplaceable._

_He’s my only one._

_There’s no one else good enough._

_“This is cheesy to say, but you…”_

_“Hm?”_

_“You… being here… it soothes me.”_

_He enlarges his eyes and hurls his face away._

_“Geeez, shut up.”_

_I snigger playfully._

_“You’re shy, aren’t you?”_

_“No way.”_

_“You are. Hahaha. You are my cute Goshiki. You are the best.”_

* * *

Slowly, but surely, I open my eyes and let the sunshine slips from the edges of the only window in my bedroom. There’s a light green curtain that covers its surface, but if the position’s perfect—like how the gust of wind from my air conditioner flaps the bottom part aside—then every light from the outside world will be able to creep in. Fortunately, I’m blessed with a system that protects me from waking up easily. Even if someone will shine a bright flashlight on my eyes, I still won’t move an inch. Albeit in strange some cases I will, specifically when I’m already at least seventy percent rested.

With only a quarter of my soul gathered, I raise my upper body to make myself having a sitting position. I rub my left eye pretty roughly before gazing at a round red clock above my wooden door. It’s eleven a.m. On Sunday. As much as I detest my parents’ antics, they never shout if I sleep too much or at a random time. I guess that’s one of a few silver linings of living under this roof.

Once I’m more aware of my surroundings, I remember parts after parts of my dream. There’s only one question to it. Why did I dream about that? Why Goshiki? That was the first time he ever visited my dream world. It’s not like I despise it so much. I’m just surprised. A couple of seconds pass and I opt to throw my body back to the bed. It’s so fluffy under me, hence it doesn’t affect my left shoulder at all. I remember I did this once on the sofa in my living room and it stung. Not to the point where I cried, but I would rather not do it again. Why would I want to undergo pain if I could choose not to? Logic.

I then move to my phone that’s kept on the right side of my bed, just between my pillow and a wall. There’s an enormous amount of LINE chats from different sources. I won’t bother to swipe one by one through the lock screen notifications, so I unlock it and promptly head to the app. As always, there are “999+” chats from the volleyball group and fewer from some official accounts, then two from Kageyama who asks about English and Ukai.

Wait. Ukai?

I blink several times. My brain tries to get the gist of this new experience. He has never chatted me privately before. If he has to announce something related to the volleyball club, he’ll just chat the group or call Takeda. I don’t even think I have him in my friends list, but it’s possible for any non-friends to chat me because I enable the setting. My high curiosity doesn’t allow me to wait a little more to tap his chat.

And is this for real? There are more than ten missed calls, throughout the past three hours. In the end of it, Ukai sent me a “chat me back, I need to call you” around thirty minutes ago. I always feel uneasy when someone calls me a lot of times, but I can’t be there for them. Same thing happened with Kiyoko before. My fingers move too fast to write some words back.

 _ Me_  
_ 11:06 PM Ukai-san?_  
_ 11:06 PM Sorry, I just woke up_  
_ 11:06 PM What’s the matter?_

I’m not shocked at all when my I instantly get a LINE call from the mentioned coach. If I’m not mistaken, he always spends every Sunday behind the cashier of his small store and that makes him available from time to time. Unless if he needs to go to the bathroom—but that’s not my concern.

“Hello?” I greet cheerfully after I pick the call up. My voice is slightly hoarse. Luckily, I have a bottle full of mineral water on my desk, so I stand up from my bed and walk there.

“Hello. Sawamura told me about what happened yesterday. Good job. Those boys can be a pain in the ass sometimes,” Ukai doesn’t waste any additional remarks to directly show me his opinion.

“Thank you.” I open the dark green lid of the bottle with my left hand before holding and gulping down a lot of times. I try my best to not burp because Ukai can hear. Burping itself is never bad, but I don’t want to do it in front of him. He’s not Kei or Yamaguchi.

“That’s great, but why are you suddenly helping now? Why not since before?” Ukai jumps to the next question. It appears that he senses my concern. Well, for sure he’s not a dumb person and that’s why he can handle the pressure of becoming a coach.

“I think the timing was just perfect?”

And I mean my words. Yesterday Ukai wasn’t available and Yamaguchi needed help. Also thanks to Kiyoko and Yachi who stimulated my passion? I don’t even know if that’s a proper choice of word. I don’t know what else to say. It really just happened.

“I saw some of your games on TV. You’re a well-rounded player and… I don’t want to compare you to your parents. I don’t say that you’re good just because your parents are good, but I believe you can be a good coach like them.”

I chew my lower lip before replying, “Thank you, Ukai-san.”

“But I have a question.”

“Yes?”

Ukai takes a deep breath and releases it harshly. “After you had an accident, what came through your mind, regarding your future? I know you’re a manager now, but what’s your plan after you graduate from high school?”

_It’s still two and a half years later._

I want to express that thought. I want to make him understand that no one knows what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe tomorrow I’ll develop a new interest of becoming a painter, maybe a chef, maybe I’ll end up being an office worker. I’m still young. I’ll be fine. I’m not alone. I’m the same as millions who are still trying to figure out how and when they want to contribute to this world.

But then, I’ll lie to myself as my heart knows that I can’t—I swear I can’t—imagine living the rest of my life without volleyball. I don’t want to be far from the shimmering world where I’ve been in for years now. I know, won’t have a happy ending any other way.

“I don’t know,” I mutter in defeat.

“Does it sound bad if you become a coach?”

“No.” I bite my lower lip again. “Not at all.”

“Aw, come on! What’s wrong with that tone? Are you trying to state that you’re not good enough? Are you kidding me? I thought you were a confident girl? Am I wrong?” Ukai throws bunch of lectures. He’s done this quite a lot to the boys in my club and now I get one too. Great.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry,” I lightly yell at him.

“So are we good?”

“What? Well, yes we are?” I’m so puzzled at the way I speak.

“Great.” Ukai briefly pauses before continuing, “Tomorrow I can’t come again, so please take care of them.”

What.

What?

“What?!” I believe there are so many dents forming in my forehead.

“Please. Sawamura and the others seem to like you so much.”

“What if I make a mistake?! I’m still learning myself!”

“As long as you’re right seven out of ten times, then everything is good. Even your parents make mistakes.” Ukai chuckles from the other side. “Okay! Good luck! Thank you!”

I facepalm as he one-sidedly ends the call. All that’s left for me to do is to stare at my screen. I see that our call only lasted for seven minutes. Seven minutes, but somehow, it changes my world completely.

In all honesty, I don’t quite get what’s going on. I’m still trying to elaborate everything out. It happens like a flash—Goshiki came to my dream, then Ukai asked me to replace his position as a coach for tomorrow. Will I even get paid? There are so many questions, but no one to answer.

But right now, I have a priority to do. My phone’s battery is less than ten percent, so I plug it into the charger that lies on my nightstand, on the left of my bed. When I’m sure that it connects, I dash to the door, careful enough to not flip because of something.

* * *

I thought both of my parents wouldn’t be home, but they are. My mother is chopping some napa cabbages on a wooden board in the kitchen, while my father is sitting on a dining chair, watching TV about some political propaganda. The sizzling sound of wok and the salty smell of soy sauce covers the whole room. Most likely my mother’s going to make a stir fry. I love it.

“Good morning… or midday…” I scratch my stomach while mounting a chair in front of my father. There’s a bowl full of peeled buttery almonds on the square white table between us. My father always buys bags of them, so I can’t help but to start snacking on them like him.

“I’m going to work at one. You stay home with your father,” my mother informs without averting away from her sharp knife and cabbage. She’s not a professional chopper. She can cut her fingers if she tries to act cool by chopping without looking.

“Okay,” I respond in the middle of chewing three pieces of almonds at time. I hear that their calories are high, mainly because people won’t eat just one. They’ll eat at least twenty or more. I want to suppress myself by only eating maximum five, but sometimes something is just too appetizing, okay?

I then notice a magazine that’s being put on my left, near the edge of the dining table. It’s _Monthly Volleyball_ with two university guys on the cover. They wear different jerseys—one is white, one is dark red. That means they’re rivals. This kind of appearance is actually not rare at all. Just because two people are rivals, doesn’t mean that they hate each other in real life. There has always been a major difference between a sport rivalry to a personal or grudge-based one.

My memories drives me back to the time when I became a cover myself. The first time was in my first year of middle school. I knew it since the beginning that I got chosen merely because of two reasons. One, I brought my formerly mediocre school to Interhigh and Spring High finals. Two, my parents’ status. Nevertheless, I was happy because I got paid for that. I used everything to treat my clubmates _takoyaki_.

The second and third time were during my second year. It was a simple cover. I only had to wear my school’s jersey and stand in front of a camera with one hand on hip. I also got interviewed, but I listened to my parents who taught me to speak very carefully in front of media. I did. I didn’t give them too much information. I also got paid more than before.

The fourth time was an exclusive cover with both of my parents, when I was in the third grade, only several months before the preliminaries for Spring High. I remember very well, the headline was “Miyagi’s Volleyball Dynasty”. Everyone in school was talking about that. Some sneered at me because they thought I was only using my parents’ fame.

Right. So apparently, all the children of great volleyball players will also be great volleyball players? Apparently, all the children of five-star chefs will also be five-star chefs? Life would be so easy if that’s the truth and the mighty Japan would cease to null if everyone thinks that way. Aside from everything, for sure I got paid the most for that one.

God, I love money so much, don’t I? But if someone declares that they don’t want free money from doing nothing for  _Monthly Volleyball_ , then they’re the biggest liar, the biggest hypocrite, and the biggest faker.

The fifth and last time was when I had my accident. I should’ve gotten a special coverage because of my ultimate win. No. They put a picture of me spiking during the final—sure, great—but all the headlines were painful to bear. I don’t know who started my “the Cursed Princess” nickname, but I believe _Monthly Volleyball_ was at fault. My parents got so upset, but they didn’t want to sue them or demand an apology because a magazine company, a media, would always have more power than us commoners. That’s the consequence of being somewhat popular.

Even until now, my parents will occasionally get a coverage. They’re one of the best volleyball coaches in Japan, therefore they can’t really prevent the media to stop looking for them. It’s not unusual for people to mention or ask about me. My parents sure are bizarre, but they’re sane enough to give zero comment toward those kinds of private questions. I won’t like it either if they broadcast every single piece of me for everyone to enjoy.

I exhale a breath after I swallow my sixteenth almond. Yes, I count just because I want to know how much calories I’ve digested so far. Now that I’m somewhat full, I have the courage to speak to my parents. It really is now or never.

“Tou-san, Kaa-san. Can I talk about something important?” I call out. My father shifts his eyes from the TV to mine, while my mother doesn’t respond at all as she’s busy stiring the wok. She doesn’t even turn around to look at and respect me. She’s always like that until for so many times, I think my father loves me way more than her.

“What’s wrong?” my father asks before grabbing a black remote from the middle of the table to lower the volume of the TV. See? He truly appreciates me more than my mother.

“I… want to become a coach.”

“What???!!!”

Right away, both my father and mother shriek. The latter even drops something because I can hear a deafening “klang”. Maybe her spatula. For sure they look horrific and it scares me.

“W-what did y-you say?” my father stutters.

“I want to… become a coach?” I repeat my words in confusion.

“Oh, my…” He suddenly covers his mouth with his right hand and begins to sob. What’s up with that reaction? I’m so terrified, but I cringe so hard at the same time.

My mother turns off her stove and run to us. Her dish isn’t done because all the chopped napa cabbages are still on the counter, but it’s obvious that this topic matters more to her. Still, I stand on my decision. I think my father loves me more as he literally cries. Creepily enough.

“Why? Why out of nowhere?” my mother nervously stands right next to her easily-overwhelmed-by-every-cause husband.

“Ah…” I frown slightly as I try to summarize everything perfectly. “Yesterday I gave some volleyball advice to my clubmates and they appreciated it so much. Their coach then called me this morning and asked me to take over for tomorrow because he can’t come. I agree.”

“Is this… for real…?” my father cries harder for real. His face is an ironic mess. Even my mother leers at him. It’s so amusing to see a male being more sensitive than his female partner.

“Why are you crying?” I throw a blunt question, although careful enough to not make my father weep.

There’s no answer given by him, thus my mother sighs and gazes deeply into my black eyes. The same color as hers.

“After you had an accident, you cried so much for months. Do you remember that?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah… Very well…” I reply. My voice trembles a bit, but I’m sure my parents don’t notice that. I find my mother’s words to be hurtful, that’s why. It reminds me of so many bitter things that I don’t want to rewind.

“We thought you would never be near volleyball,” my mother bends her body forward with hands supporting her weight on the table. “When you said that you became a manager for the boys’ volleyball team, we were so happy.”

“Ah.” I lift my eyebrows. I’m not a melancholy person, but finding that fact warms my heart.

“And now that you say you want to become a coach. It’s a proudful thing to hear, you know?”

“Yes, as expected from our daughter…” my father wipes away his tears with his index fingers.

The only thing I can do is giggle. I’m not going to cry like them, but I understand their happiness. I too understand my happiness. After everything I’ve been through, after months of not doing anything significant, finally I can be useful. I will not let this opportunity fly off. I have to believe in myself. I have to thank many people as well.

* * *

After having lunch, I head back to my bedroom and the first thing I do is check on my phone. The battery’s already fully charged to one hundred percent, so I plug it off before hopping onto my messy bed. I don’t casually lie down because it will upset my digestive system, so I lean on the wall while checking all the notifications. I haven’t replied to Kageyama and there’s a new message from Ushijima around fifteen minutes ago. The thing is right now, I’m not really in the mood to scavenge Youtube just to find some English tutorial videos. I’ll do everything when I’m on my laptop since it’s easier that way. That being said, what I can do right now is to reply to Ushijima.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Sorry for the late reply 12:33 PM_  
_Are you there? 12:33 PM  
_

This again. I’m at a loss of words every time he writes “sorry”, yet I don’t want to tell him to stop either. It’s his trademark. I swear it doesn’t have anything to do with me being a sadistic person. I just sincerely enjoy this personality of his. It adds something to our dialogue when it goes monochrome.

 _ Me_  
_ 12:48 PM Hey, I am here!_  
_ 12:48 PM I just had lunch_  
_ 12:48 PM What are you doing?_  
_ 12:48 PM Not practicing?_

I kind of know what’s he up to when he straightaway reads my chat and quickly writes something back.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Lunch break 12:48 PM  
_

Yet again, my guess was correct.

One thing that I know about Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team is that they practice vigorously seven times a week. On weekdays, they’ll do it after school at four p.m. until seven or eight—which is the same as Karasuno. On Saturday and Sunday, they’ll do it at eight a.m. until lunch time at two p.m., while Karasuno only does a half-day practice from morning until afternoon on Saturday. Sunday is our beloved holiday.

 _ Me_  
_ 12:48 PM Hayashi rice again?_  
_ 12:48 PM You eat that everyday -.- _

 _ Ushijima _  
_Not everyday. Today Coach Washijou is treating us some ramen 12:49 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:49 PM You’ll eat two ramen?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I already ate two ramen 12:49 PM_

 _ Me_  
_12:49 PM_   
_12:49 PM I’m jealous_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Why? 12:49 PM_

 _ Me _  
_ 12:49 PM You can eat as much as you want_  
_ 12:50 PM You have a lot of muscles, that’s why_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Then just gain some muscles for yourself 12:50 PM  
_

Right. The most realistic resolution ever. He really is simple, but I won’t say that to him because he won’t understand either.

 _ Me_  
_ 12:50 PM Hahaha_  
_ 12:50 PM Easy to say XD_  
_ 12:50 PM Anyway, can I ask something?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Sure 12:50 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:50 PM Is Goshiki okay?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_He is. Why? 12:50 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:50 PM I had a dream about him_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Dream? 12:50 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:50 PM So many things have happened today and yesterday_  
_ 12:51 PM I can’t really tell you one by one because I’m too lazy to type everything out_  
_ 12:51 PM Not like you care, anyway_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Ah? But I do care? 12:51 PM  
_

I giggle quite hard. Why does he like to add a question mark after his sentence?

 _ Me_  
_ 12:51 PM It’s okay, I’m fine_

 _ Ushijima _  
_If you don’t want to type, do you want me to call you? 12:51 PM  
_

Eh? Is he being serious? This is so random and sudden. I’m not ready to have a call with someone like him. I know we’re friends, but it’s not like we’re close. Our relationship isn’t nothing akin to me and my clubmates.

 _ Me_  
_ 12:51 PM No need_  
_ 12:51 PM For what?_

 _ Ushijima_  
_I just feel that you’re confused about something 12:51 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:51 PM Well I am_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Do you want me to call you? 12:52 PM  
_

This guy. Sometimes he can be so persistent.

 _ Me_  
_ 12:52 PM Ushijima-san…_  
_ 12:52 PM It seems that you’re the one who wants to call me_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I don’t mind 12:52 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:52 PM And why are you now acting as if I’m the one who wants to call you?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I don’t understand what we’re talking about 12:52 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 12:52 PM Me neither  
_

And then he reads my chat, but there’s no immediate reply like before. For some reasons, it puts me on a bad position.

 _ Me_  
_ 12:52 PM If you want to call me, please don’t be near your friends_

 _ Ushijima_  
_12:52 PM_

 _ Me _  
_ 12:52 PM Eh? Are you going to call me now?  
_

This time, he doesn’t even read my chat. I bet he’s walking somewhere far. He’s doing everything I say in an instance and no one has ever treated me that way before. Including my parents. Once, I asked them to buy me a new school bag because my current one’s broken. They did it two weeks later, after I begged for every single minute. Kei’s also the same. He’s _Mr. Beg Me First Please_ who I have to spoil one hundred times before he’ll do something for me, his close friend.

Less than a minute after, my phone screen displays an incoming call from Ushijima, so I pick up and greet him sweetly, “Hello.”

“Hello.”

My whole body shivers, from head and down to spine. It feels like eternity since the last time I heard his baritone timbre. It’s not that I miss it or what. I’m just not used to this. I don’t even know anymore why I’m having a phone call with him. There are too many clashing subjects on my mind. I have to stop before it explodes.

“Where are you?” That’s my first question. I can’t really hear anything on the background. I suppose he’s pretty far, but I have to make sure.

“Outside the cafeteria.”

“That’s not far at all. Is it safe?”

“It’s safe. Everyone else’s still eating inside.” He sounds as solid as his posture.

“I see.” I smile softly that I wish he would see—in one way or another. “Now… what am I—oh, yeah! I want to tell you about my day!”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t get bored, please?”

“I won’t.”

“About Goshiki… I had a dream about him. About back then when I was hospitalized after my crash accident. He used to visit me all the time.” I close my eyes as I see polaroids of all the things I explain. “I’m not thinking about it too much, but I haven’t heard anything from him for two months or so. I’m positive I haven’t done something wrong.”

“Ah… Around two months ago, Goshiki made a new LINE account.”

I abruptly open my eyes, embarrassed at my own dramatic moment. “Seriously?!”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?!” I scream the same thing, but louder. “He should’ve looked for me! That bastard!”

“You don’t have his phone number?”

“No. Never. Who saves phone number and email nowadays? We have LINE and Facebook and Twitter.”

“Do you want me to give you his—”

“No need! Uh, no need,” I lower my tone once I realize that I currently talk to a cute teddy bear, not a feral anaconda. “If I’ll get his ID from you, then he’s going to find out about us.”

“Say that it’s from your other friends.”

“That I can’t.”

Ushijima goes silent. I understand if he won’t grasp my point. No one will, until I explain. The thing is I can’t bring myself to. Even if the whole world forces me, I will sew my lips together.

“Ushijima-san, actually even my friends in Karasuno has no idea that I know Goshiki that well,” I add, trying to move to another subject. “So you’re kind of special.”

“I see…”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“About you knowing Goshiki? I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

I beam joyfully. Speaking with him brings me this uncanny form of happiness. I can’t really describe. It’s a bit awkward, but feasible.

“Can I tell you something else?” I continue.

“Wakatoshi? What are you doing out here?” Just before Ushijima responds to me, I hear a guy calling him out loud.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean… Oh? You’re on a phone call? With your father?”

“Yes,” Ushijima lies, which calms me down. I thought he would say “a girl” like before. He has learned from his mistake.

But just one simple question, why do they always think of Utsui? Does Ushijima call him so many times? I won’t state that it’s bad. Instead, it’s very normal if he misses his father for every single day as the latter was never here for years.

“I’m looking for Reon. Where is he?” Ushijima’s friend asks again. He’s like heaven and earth when compared to that noisy one who literally interrogated Ushijima with one thousand and one questions about me.

“Toilet.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

“Yes.” There’s a moment of peace before Ushijima begins to speak to me again, “Sorry, that was my friend.”

“It’s okay. Who’s that, by the way? I’ve never known anything about your friends.” I crawl cautiously and drop myself on my bed. My stomach’s still bloated, but my back hurts from leaning that long on a hard wall.

“Semi. Setter, third year.”

“Regular?”

“No, substitute.”

“I see… Then what about the one who barged into your room when we first had a phone call?” Previously, I hold my phone with my right hand, but now I move it to my left as I roll my body to my right. I can’t do it with my left because my bothersome shoulder will ache.

“Tendou?”

“Well, I don’t know. Why are you asking me?” I retort while letting a faint laugh.

“Yeah, Tendou.”

“Aren’t you super close to them? They always call you with your first name.”

“Yes, but not the underclassmen.”

“Hahaha. Of course.” I let my laugh goes away by itself before I ask, “So… should I continue?”

“Yes, please.”

And just like that, I know how I’ll spend the next twenty minutes on phone with him. I’ll tell him about yesterday—of course without giving away the part in which Yamaguchi wasn’t that good with jump serve and everything alongside that. I’ll tell him about Ukai calling me, also about my father who cries. It’s amazing how he’ll listen to any of these.

One thing I know is that Ushijima Wakatoshi is such a pleasant guy. I wish everyone would also realize that.


	12. En Route to Away Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come.” I startle when out of nowhere, Kei’s left hand seizes my right wrist tightly. I raise my head to see him glaring down intensively at me. Here we go again with him being an overprotective great-grandfather. I won’t complain, though. This won’t cost me anything. Instead, this makes me safer.
> 
> Big town sure is more dangerous than our hometown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ Wakatoshi is a cutie innocent bear~ (yes, the eyes are missing if you open it through mobile)
> 
> (づ￣ ³￣)づ Kei is a cutie protective bastard~
> 
> (a.k.a I don’t know how to begin this chapter, so there you go...)
> 
> Anyway, have you ever heard [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzWGGzXiGl0)?  
> It’s sung by Ushiwaka’s voice actor, for a popular BL visual novel called Dramatical Murder.  
> I know nothing about that as I’m not very fond of visual novel, otome game, etc.
> 
> Listen to it before you sleep tonight. No judgement.  
> And yes. You’re welcome. Thank you for reading my story too. XD  
>   
> Spoiler!  
>  ~~He does have an amazing singing voice. Not every voice actor can do so.~~  
>  ~~Many of them sound more like stretch-talking (?) or poetry-reciting with a super flat tone. This handsome son of a gun did a spectacular job.~~  
>  ~~When he says “hontou” at the end, I can die peacefully.~~  
>  ~~I don’t know who I like more, him or Tatsun. These deep voices are so troublesome.~~  
>  ~~Damn.~~  
>  ~~He can sing for Les Miz.~~  
>  ~~I must stop.~~
> 
> Important!  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Can you see Skytree?!” Tanaka and Nishinoya shout simultaneously in awe. They stare intensively at the huge window of our moving bus, trying to find a glimpse of one of Tokyo’s tourist attractions that just got officially opened for business in May 2012 or a bit more than a year ago.

I’m not as pumped up as them because this isn’t my first time in Tokyo. I have some families living here and some of them will periodically send wedding invitations to my house. Let’s say once a year I’ll go to a party here, but always with both of my parents. This is the first time I go with people from my age group, people who are close to me, people whom I will enjoy to have fun with ease. This is a whole new thrill for me.

I glance at Kei who snores safe and sound on my right. We are the only two who occupy the back of the bus. His glasses are nowhere to be found and without them, his unornamented face resembles a baby. Too pure, too cute, too precious. Aside from that, he wears his white headphones, but I don’t think the music is on. His phone’s battery would long be emptied hours ago. I wouldn’t mind to check had it not been tucked inside of his sweatpants’ right pocket. To wake and anger him out is the last sin I want to commit at the moment.

But what I can do right now is to settle my head on his left shoulder. I was sleeping like this the whole night, so even if he promptly dilates his eyes and finds out, he won’t be bothered at all. And with both eyes stuck to the big road ahead, my brain starts to fly all over the place. It reminds me of the many things that have occurred for the past three weeks, including the final exam days.

One. The very next day after Ukai called for help on Sunday, I did what he told me to. I spent the whole two hours of club time by showering a lot of advice to almost everyone, mainly Azumane, Tanaka, and Ennoshita. I was a wing spiker myself, thus no questions needed on why I could connect with them the most. I gave two or three to the others. Nishinoya was the only person who I didn’t touch as there was nothing—not even a single tiniest thing—to change about him.

Still, I’m not a flawless angel. I really wish I was. Sometimes I spoke wrongfully, but no one yelled—expect Kei who always smirks haughtily at my failures. Most of them understand that I’m still young and learning, that I’m the same growing teenager as them. Just like what Ukai said, as long as seven out of ten of my advice are accurate, then everything will be okay.

Two. I felt bad for Kiyoko and Yachi. They prepared bottles and towels all by themselves because I could only focus on one thing, the boys. They said it’s not a problem at all and sure, nothing tore them down, but a big part of me was guilty. It lingered, even after I helped them cleaning when the club’s over. I guess the only option left is for me to believe in their words and relax.

Three. The final exam went very well for me. My worst subject has always been math, but I still got above sixty. Kei laughed mockingly, but I was satisfied. For English—my best subject—I got a perfect one hundred. For the rest, I got around seventy to ninety. I’m not an irksome genius like Kei who always gets above ninety for all his work without even trying, but I’m not Yamaguchi who always gets less than seventy. Let’s just say that I slant to the smart side, not average.

Almost everyone nailed their exam. Almost everyone, besides Hinata and Kageyama, which connects me to number four. Hinata failed in English literature because mistakenly, he filled his answer off by one number. Kageyama failed in modern literature because he was too negligent to read the passages, although he correctly filled all the kanji—his number one enemy.

It’s been a while since I felt that disappointed at the world. I remember how Yachi sobbed because same as me, she had strained herself to teach Hinata and Kageyama. She knew how hard they tried. I felt awful, especially toward Hinata. He actually got so many answers correct. He should’ve gotten above seventy. Sadly, Ono—our English teacher—would never let a small mistake like that slip off too easily. At that very moment, I hated her to the moon and back. I think even until now, albeit not that much anymore.

In the end, our duo of weird quicks couldn’t go to Tokyo together with us, but Tanaka declared that an unknown savior would come today to drive them here. Only if they manage to finish the supplementary exam early in the morning. Noon or afternoon won’t make the cut as it’ll already shift to a new day by the time they arrive, hence might as well they don’t come at all.

I’m abruptly stopped from being too engrossed with my own world when the phone in the right pocket of my thin white jacket vibrates several times. For sure I put the sound mode into silent, but maybe I accidentally clicked or pushed on something. Whatever that could be, I opt to grab the gadget to see two LINE notifications from Ushijima. Funny how I expect a new message from him more than my parents.

Before proceeding any further, I pull my head back from Kei’s shoulder and glance at him who’s still asleep. I know I’ve changed Ushijima’s display name to “Nanako”, but one or two things can still happen. Better prevent now than feeling sorry later. Once I’m sure that Kei won’t be bugged even if a meteor falls near us, I open Ushijima’s chat.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Good morning 6:06 AM_  
_Have you arrived in Tokyo? 6:06 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 6:06 AM Good morning_  
_ 6:06 AM Yes, it’s been 6 hours on road from school_  
_ 6:07 AM Sensei said we’ll arrive in Nekoma in 45 minutes or so_

 _ Ushijima _  
_That’s good 6:07 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 6:07 AM You know… Sensei drives very well_  
_ 6:07 AM Ukai-san… not so much :/_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Really? 6:07 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 6:07 AM Yeah_  
_ 6:07 AM Sensei is calm_  
_ 6:07 AM Coach Ukai is like fast and furious_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Be careful 6:07 AM_

 _ Me_  
_Yup!_  
_ 6:07 AM Anyway, did you just wake up?_  
_ 6:07 AM Your morning practice will begin in 2 hours, right?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Yes, but I’m still on my bed 6:08 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 6:08 AM You’re not going to have breakfast?_

 _Ushijima_  
_ 6:08 AM _

_ Me_  
_ 6:08 AM What about real food? :)_

 _ Ushijima_  
_I will later 6:08 AM  
_

For real? If there’s one thing that Ushijima might love as extensive as volleyball, it’ll be food—hayashi rice in particular. In all fairness, most of the volleyball players that I know are lunatic when it comes to eating. They’re athletes, thus it’s not odd or wrong if they’re hungry all the time. They also have to eat back thousands of the calories they lose from exercising and to underline everything, males do consume more calories than females. Annoying much?

 _ Me_  
_ 6:08 AM What’s wrong?_  
_ 6:08 AM Normally you’ll have breakfast immediately_

 _ Ushijima _  
_You won’t be here 6:08 AM  
_

I lift my eyebrows in confusion as I unhurriedly write my next words.

 _ Me_  
_ 6:09 AM What do you mean?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_If I eat now, my friends will talk to me 6:09 AM_  
_My coach will sometimes be in the cafeteria as well 6:09 AM_  
_Then you’ll be busy by the time I’m back 6:09 AM  
_

So that’s the real reason. I don’t know whether I should be flattered or puzzled. He’s somehow getting too attached to me. I thoroughly notice that and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or no. The only thing I know is that different people have different approach toward their friends and I believe Ushijima is the type that will stick close all the time. Like a loyal puppy.

 _ Me_  
_ 6:09 AM I won’t be gone for the whole day_  
_ 6:09 AM I’ll chat you during lunch_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Oh. I annoy you 6:10 AM  
_

_No!!! That’s not it, Ushijima Wakatoshi!!!_ I wish I could scream the words right to his face, but no. What I can only do now is to heave a weak puff of air and proceed to my next chat.

 _Me_  
_6:10 AM_   
_6:10 AM That’s not what I meant at all_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Then? 6:10 AM  
_

Never mind. I don’t want to trouble myself even more than this by trying to explain that all I want is for him to eat breakfast because in the end, I’ll be there, no matter what happens. I don’t want to waste another ten minutes only for this. Moreover, I’m unsure if he’ll eventually understand.

 _Me_  
_ 6:10 AM I’ll be here for the next 30-45 minutes_

Ushijima  
_6:10 AM_

 I grunt. Why is he so adorable?

 _ Ushijima _  
_Will you coach again today? 6:10 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:10 AM Probably_  
_ 6:11 AM I’ll do it if Ukai-san asks me to_  
_ 6:11 AM I think he will_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Good luck 6:11 AM_  
_Be a stronger tree than ever 6:11 AM  
_

_Me_  
_6:11 AM_   
_6:11 AM Stop using an absurd metaphor like that_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Why? 6:11 AM  
_

When will he understand me in an instance? He’s so dense, but lovable. I’m torn inside out.

 _ Me_  
_ 6:11 AM Because you should call me an angel or something_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Okay. You’re an angel who’ve lost her left wing 6:11 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 6:12 AM ………………_  
_ 6:12 AM Was the last part necessary?_  
_ 6:12 AM Seriously, you’re mean!_  
_ 6:12 AM I’m not going to chat you anymore!_  
_ 6:12 AM Bye forever!_

At the same time as I press back on my phone, Ushijima bombards me with some “sorry” and stickers. I smile triumphantly. I’m not going to reply so he’ll learn how to communicate normally next time. I can be mean and weirdly enough, this thing brings me to number five, the last one.

That day when I had a phone call with Ushijima, I told him everything regarding my coaching drama. He listened with occasionally agreeing or saying “ah” and “I see”—typical him. After all the words were out, he said that he’s rooting for me. Similar to Kiyoko and Yachi, he stated that it’s not weird if I’ll become a professional volleyball coach like my parents. He saw many of my games and he knows what I’m capable of.

Hearing him say all those endearing syllables filled a gap in my heart. He’s a volleyball superstar. He’s number one in Miyagi. Years after this, I’m sure he’ll be the top in Asia. Not only in Japan or East Asia, but the whole Asia. Getting abundant praise from someone like him will make everyone squeals in joyfulness. That’s just it.

* * *

“Wake up.” Right after Takeda stops the bus, I stand straight in front of Kei while poking his cheeks with my index fingers. He brushes them away before fidgeting around, trying to propel the fact that his dream will be snapped crudely anytime soon. His eyebrows twitch painfully and his mouth opens a tad. Simply put, he’s a morning mess and if I could, I’d let him rest more.

“Just give him a true love’s kiss. He’ll wake up,” Tanaka offers a fairytale advice from behind, so I turn around to see him grinning widely at me. Nishinoya who’s still on his seat does the same. I click my tongue as a reply, but as if that’ll make them stop teasing me and Kei.

“Kei.” I decide to pull Kei’s headphones from his big head—literally. It seems to work as he starts to budge his eyes, albeit beyond slowly. At least there’s a progress.

I drop his headphones on his lap and smile softly when his eyes begin to accept the reality of sunshine. I know he can’t see my face that clearly without his glasses on, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t mutter a word as I grab my black travel handbag from the right corner of the backseat and walk away. All the heavy bags are mounted in the luggage racks. I can’t lift my left shoulder, so everything will be taken care by the boys. Even if I can, these gentlemen won’t ever allow girls to carry those.

“Is Tsukki awake?” Yamaguchi greets me once I step out of the bus. He looks exhausted, compared to everyone else. I didn’t hear him speak the entire night, so I’m pretty sure he fell into a deep slumber. Only maybe not enough.

“Yeah, he’s inside.” I point my left thumb over my shoulder. “Did you sleep well? You look like a dead fish.”

Yamaguchi yawns loudly in between his words, “Not really… I woke up several times… Sleeping while sitting is the worst…”

“Next time I’ll give you sleeping medicine.” My tone must indicate that I’m joking, but I’m serious. I’ve heard that consuming sleeping medicine for every single night is unhealthy, but if it’s only for the night when we have to get a good rest before a long and hectic day ahead, then it should’ve been an exception.

Just before Yamaguchi parts his lips to give any comment, a hand shoves my head down with a great force. I jolt forward, but luckily, my feet are strong enough to support myself from falling free. If that movement were a little bit stronger, I swear I would’ve miserably faceplanted and cried from cracking the brige of my nose. Even Yamaguchi has extended his arms, ready to catch me.

“Kei, stop it!!!” I roar angrily at the perpetrator and all I get back is an obnoxious smirk. Way to begin this day.

“My shoulder hurts…” Instead of giving relevant remarks, Kei grumbles while twirling his left shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Yamaguchi whimpers. Of course, he cares so much about his partner. Sometimes I wonder if he sees Kei more than a friend. Probably no, because he never disapproves my existence.

“This girl slept for six hours on my shoulder. I think I’m cursed by an evil being. She’s contagious,” Kei taunts nonchalantly.

I sneer at him, “You don’t have to lend me your shoulder if you dislike it that much.”

“Shut up. You’re nothing more than a spoiled baby.”

“Go say that to yourself, weirdo! Whenever I’m not there, you’re always looking at me!”

“Okay, let’s not fight. You guys are relationship goal when you’re good to each other…” Yamaguchi involves himself and I glare sharply at him. I hope that’s enough to mute him, but my expression softens when Kiyoko and Yachi jump out of the bus. I move closer to them because I’d rather proceed on going inside the school with those two than these two.

But obviously, nothing happens according to my plan.

In the end, Kiyoko and Yachi walk in front of me, while I walk behind them, between Kei on my right and Yamaguchi on my left. I just hope that Kei won’t start any irrelevant tantrum, so we won’t childishly quarrel in front of strangers from another schools.

Nekoma Metropolitan High School’s main building isn’t that huge, compared to some schools I’ve seen around Miyagi—Shiratorizawa, for example. I don’t think this has anything to do with the fact that it’s located in the suburb of Tokyo. If I may say, I prefer Karasuno more because we have multiple ways to go to many places. Nekoma itself only has specific paths.

When we’re almost near the entrance of the gym, my eyes capture a figure of a tall guy with a spiky black hair who stands besides Sawamura. They speak and laugh cheerfully, but that interaction isn’t the one that grabs my attention. It’s the guy.

I swear to heaven and earth, he’s so attractive and good-looking. He wears a black t-shirt with short sleeves and a blood red shorts that showcases his long, slender, yet still muscular legs. Granted, he has this bad boy vibe which I—and many girls—quite dislike, but the way he simpers is so enchanting and kittenish.

Yes, right. Kittenish. Kitten. Cats. _Neko_. Nekoma. I cringe at my cheesiness.

“Who’s that guy?” I can’t wait any longer to know more about him. My voice even becomes slightly pitchy.

“Which one?” Yamaguchi tilts his head to me. Kei, Kiyoko, and Yachi do the same, but the last two only do it briefly before turning their head back to the front. They should, unless if they want to bump into something later on.

“The black-haired guy who talks to Sawamura-san.” My eyes are still stuck on the aforementioned person. He laughs louder than before. I like the way he does that—as if he forgets about everything else and chooses to enjoy this moment to the fullest.

“Oh, he’s the captain of Nekoma. Kuroo-san,” Yamaguchi explains shortly. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s so handsome. I’ve never seen someone like him before.”

There’s not even a pause when Kei, Yamaguchi, Kiyoko, and Yachi halt. Altogether, they expand their eyes while staring deeply at me. They seem so surprised. Feels like I just confessed that I’m six months pregnant without knowing who the father is.

“What’s wrong?” I ask innocently because in all honesty, I have no idea what’s on their mind. I only say that I find this Kuroo person to be so handsome. Is that weird? I believe many people think the same as I do.

Or maybe these four people know more than me.

“Oh. Is he no good?” I gamble on this one.

“No, that’s not the problem at all.” Yamaguchi rocks his head from side to side. He glances at Kei for a moment before fixating his eyes on me again.

“Then what’s wrong? You guys scare me…” I whine. “Does he have a girlfriend already? Is he gay? Oh? Maybe Kiyoko-senpai likes him?”

And what I get next is a desperate sigh from Kiyoko. “No. Let’s just go inside.”

I scratch my nose carefully as I continue to move my feet onward. The others follow. I still don’t understand what’s going on. What confuses me more is that Yachi seems to get it more than I do. I’ll ask her when we have a private time. I won’t let this slide away that easily.

“Oh my God!”

My heart almost jumps out of its place when I hear an ear-piercing voice cursing to the air. It appears that the four people around me also have the same reaction. I’m taller than Kiyoko and Yachi, so there are no obstacles for me to see a Nekoma guy with a blond mohawk hair kneeling with a dejected face in front of us.

“There are three managers now?!” he continues. “They have the pretty one, the cute one, and the sexy and tall one!!!”

I frown, puzzled at who he is and what he wants. The pretty one must be Kiyoko, the cute one must be Yachi, and the sexy and tall one must be me. Kiyoko is actually sexier than anyone in this country—look at that small beauty mark near her lips—but this hopeless romantic guy mentioned tall and I fit more into that category. Well, for sure I’m honored to be seen that way.

“Come.” I startle when out of nowhere, Kei’s left hand seizes my right wrist tightly. I raise my head to see him glaring down intensively at me. Here we go again with him being an overprotective great-grandfather. I won’t complain, though. This won’t cost me anything. Instead, this makes me safer.

Big town sure is more dangerous than our hometown.

* * *

No one has to tell me that Karasuno is nowhere near stable. We aren’t Aoba Jousai or even Shiratorizawa who have gathered the best of the best of Miyagi. We are ants compared to hundreds of schools all over this country. We have enormous amount of holes, especially in our defense. Still, I had faith in my boys. I thought we would at least be “okay” among all of these powerhouses, but the truth doesn’t state so. We’ve lost four matches, consecutively. Without Hinata and Kageyama, our offense is too average. This is kind of embarrassing to see and say.

What pricks my heart is the penalty. I have no idea who made the rule, but the team who loses a match will have to do diving around the sideline of gym. True, it’s only one lap, but the gym is big. First, it will drain their energy. Two, if they do it when their body is exhausted, then they can lose focus, fall, and hit their chin, nose, forehead, elbow, knee, or many more. Trust me, I’ve done that a lot.

I sigh as I readjust my position on a single chair that’s located on the right sideline of this huge gym, which can handle two rows of nets at once, instead of one like what we have in Karasuno. Kiyoko and Yachi sit on my right, while Ukai and Takeda are on my left. Both Kiyoko and I carry a school notebook, but we write down different things. Kiyoko writes all the scores and misses and I write some weaknesses and advices for everyone.

“You keep sighing. Are we beyond saving?” Ukai bends his body sideways, to see more of what I’ve writren so far. “Oh, that’s good! I never thought that Sawamura has that tendency! Once we’re done with this set, give this note to them!”

“Is it okay if I give it during lunch?” I refuse politely. “I want to record as much errors as I can find.”

“If you say so. Not like they can immediately change after they read your note.”

“They’re really bad without Hinata and Kageyama. I’m just wondering… what if something happens to them prior to Spring High and maybe during?”

“Hm, yeah.” Ukai folds his arms. He must’ve been thinking the same, way before me. He must’ve had so many plans, but they aren’t that easy to be implemented. The players have to be capable to follow up. Just like what I always say, if words only could change people, they everyone would’ve been a volleyball star player.

“Bokuto Koutarou, the ace from Fukuroudani is the same as Ushiwaka, isn’t he?” Takeda brings my attention back to the team on the other net from Karasuno. Their ace has somewhat the same built as Azumane, but his hair is a spiky dark grey, finished by white tips. His eyes are big and round with golden iris. Overall, he’s greatly similar to a horned owl that I saw in the zoo when I was younger. It fits with his school’s name.

“The same as in what, Sensei?” I need to make sure.

“He’s in top five of best high school aces in Japan. Ushiwaka is better because he’s in top three, but Fukuroudani too has gone to the nationals several times.”

“I see…” I nod in agreement. He does have a powerful and sharp spike, but if his level is only top five, then I can’t wait to see Ushijima’s spike. I won’t be shocked if he can massacre one whole town with it.

It’s a common knowledge that average females are weaker than males, but receiving a spike or serve from a powerful female spiker can still burn people’s arms. Back then, many protested about me using too much power, but I had to do it if I wanted to blast through everyone and won. Ushijima’s spike will probably shatter me into pieces. What about Yachi, the small pea? Her soul will happily leave this mortal world before the ball even touches her arms.

“We’re going to have lunch after this match,” Ukai reminds me and the others. “I’ll call Hinata and Kageyama to make sure they’re okay.”

“They’re okay, Ukai-san,” I respond, albeit my eyes are still watching every movement of my clubmates. I keep finding a flaw after flaw and this isn’t a good sign.

* * *

“Oi, you!”

I look up to see Fukurodani’s ace standing two meters in front of me with both hands on hips. The lunch break started five minutes ago, but I’m still busy writing some new constructive advises on my notebook. The rest of my team are still scattering all around me, whipping their body with towel and drinking some fresh water to rejuvenate. Now their sights are focused on the same person who’s taken mine.

“Yes?” I don’t remember his name. Takeda-sensei mentioned it an hour ago. Was it Rakuto? Kotoro? Rakuten? No, that’s an online store. Then Naruto? No. I should stop joking with myself.

“I’ve been wondering since the moment you arrived! I know you!” He points his right index finger at me and that makes my eyes bigger than ever—because I’m cautious. “Aren’t you the Cursed Princess of Miyagi?!”

Wow. Not surprising at all. My face was on the cover of _Monthly Volleyball,_ which is distributed throughout Japan. Now I sense many eyes—besides my clubmates—are inspecting my existence. I believe ninety five percent of people in this gym begins to register who I am, but they still have some consciousness of not invading my privacy.

Unlike this guy. I can’t really blame him, though.

“I have a name.” I pout.

“Of course I know your name! [L/N] [F/N], the number one young female ace in Japan!”

I’ve heard that one sentence so many times before. I probably was, but I am no longer entitled to that prestigious crown. Almost a year passes since the last time I saw myself under that spotlight. Now it’s not valid anymore. I want to blurt out, but my throat’s dry.

“Bokuto-san, that’s very impolite…” Suddenly, I hear a soft voice creeping behind the Fukurodani’s ace whose name is apparently Bokuto. Did I seriously guess Rakuten and Naruto? I should clean my ears after this.

“Akaashi, I didn’t mean to be impolite!” Bokuto shouts at the guy who’s only two or three centimeters shorter than him. He has this kind of sleepy eyes. His hair is dark black and messy. Kind of curly on the tips, I suppose? Maybe he doesn’t comb it at all. The more I look at him, the more I realize that he’s pretty good-looking. Kuroo is more handsome, but this Akaashi guy is still above average.

What’s wrong with me today? Am I literally realizing my real type of a guy in the most bizarre timing ever? Black-haired guy. Messy-haired guy. Unique eyes. Unique way to stare at me. Cool vibe. Tall.

Stop.

“She doesn’t appreciate it. Can’t you tell?” Akaashi retorts before facing me. “I’m so sorry for his behavior. I hope that doesn’t offend you at all.”

“It’s okay, I’m getting used to this, but please don’t call me ‘the Cursed Princess’? I don’t like it.” I smile sweetly, but the heavy emphasis on my last three words surely shows my true grimace.

“No, we won’t. I apologize.” Akaashi bows down tactfully, then he grabs Bokuto’s back collar to drag him away from me. Bokuto gyrates rapidly like a struggling crab.

I can’t help but to chuckle. Truth be told, they seem fun to befriend.

“Are you okay?” Now, Takeda’s voice is the one I hear.

I turn my head to my left and nod with assurance. “This always happens, Sensei. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sensei… it’s more insulting when someone keeps asking whether I’m okay or not. It’s like they doubt my mentality.”

My resounding explanation shuts Takeda down. His next movement is nothing but jittering here and there. I smile. It doesn’t take me that long to forget about everything that just happened and concentrate back to my notebook. I have more important thing to do than to feel sorry about myself. I’ve done that before and now is not the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is too good-looking, so I want to make the heroine feel… things. And I personally think Akaashi is sexy and beautiful as hell. The way he stares can hypnotize you. :p
> 
> *is also good for a silly drama between Kei and the heroine


	13. Problematic Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m sorry.”_
> 
> _“I’m sorry.”_
> 
> Again, I sigh, but this one is followed by a good laugh—although only from my side. We apologized at the same time. We didn’t say “hello” or go quiet for a moment. We immediately chanted our “sorry” and somehow it made everything okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter up till now.  
> Previously, it was always around 4,5k. This one is more than 6k, which is good, no?
> 
> a.k.a I just had too many ideas to add and couldn’t stop. (─‿‿─)  
> But believe me, it’s not a filler! :'(
> 
> Important!  
> \- I made a practice time mistake on chapter 11, which has a small connection to this chapter. If you want, you can head back there and CTRL+F “holiday”. The whole paragraph of that is what I mean.  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

_Sawamura: A well-balanced player, but you tend to receive by bending your body to your right. Learn to use your left body more because not everyone will spike to your right (like those meanie left-handers). :D_

_Sugawara: Don’t be nervous when you toss the ball! Trust the spikers. They will find their own way to spike, no worries (except Hinata because he closes his eyes). Also, you still have that habit of looking to the person you want to toss. Luckily, many of the opponents don’t realize it… yet. >o<_

_ Azumane: When you block, you must propel the ball down, regardless it’s soft or kill block. Don’t just let the ball hits your arms. It’s not strong enough, especially if you’re against a very powerful spiker. :p  _

_Noya: There's not a thing that I would change~_  
_Cause you're amazing~_  
_Just the way you are~ -///-_

_Tanaka: No comment. So far so good. XD_

_ Ennoshita: Are you still sleepy? You seem to be all over the place. I don’t really have any advice for you at the moment, so maybe tonight or tomorrow… :(  _

_ Kinoshita: You’re a good wing spiker, despite not being a regular. Your speed is top-notch, but your block isn’t that great. Try to work on that more. AND JUMP HIGHER PLEASE???!!! D:  _

_ Narita: Slow down when you run. Don’t tire yourself too much. You can slip on your own puddle of sweat and die. :o  _

_ Tsukki: A smart blocker, but too unmotivated. You know it yourself, don’t you? -.-  _

_ Yamaguchi: Just try to master your jump float serve. That’s your best weapon. I don’t really understand that, so I can’t really comment anything. Sorry. :/ _

After I finish rechecking all my written words, I hand my notebook to Ukai. He, Takeda, and the rest of the boys will go to the cafeteria first while Kiyoko, Yachi, and I will do our duty as managers. We have to clean their dirty towels in a laundry room outside of this gym, prepare the new towels for the next matches, and refill every water bottle. They actually told us to eat first, but it’s better like this. One, it won’t be too crowded. Two, if it’s crowded, I believe Yachi won’t survive more than three seconds around those male giants.

I inspect the vastness around me as I mount my team’s bottles into its rack so I can carry them easier. Yachi kneels on my left, wiping a patch of wet ground because our boys can’t just drink normally without spilling some drops of water from the edges of their lips. Kiyoko is near the gym’s door, talking to this pretty manager from Shinzen High School. She has a light brown ponytail and side fringes which resemble mine—only that mine has a different color and that my ponytail is higher. I also see some other managers scrambling around their team’s chairs and belongings.

Now this is a perfect opportunity to ask Yachi about what has happened several hours ago. Only God and I know how long I’ve waited for this moment to come. Lucky that I’m bestowed with a sufficient amount of patience.

“Yachi, can I have a question?” My knees fall from my standing position, so I can adjust my height to be the same as hers. This way, we can have a more secluded chit-chat.

“Yes?” She stares at me with pupils as big as blonde cats during night-time.

“This morning, when we walked together inside and I asked about Kuroo-san… why did you react weirdly?”

Yachi immediately shudders. I can see her shoulders tense and her breath jams between her throat. I’m afraid she’ll pass out if someone touches her, even for a simple pat on back.

“Uh…? Eh? That… Um…” She’s not even able to form a proper sentence, so I chuckle because of her agitation.

“It’s okay. Tell me. You know I won’t bite you,” I beg softly.

“Um… That…” Yachi’s eyes go lower and lower. “I just… didn’t know why you said that in front of Tsukishima-kun…? Isn’t he your boyfriend…?”

I dilate my eyes, much to my astonishment of what I just heard. I should’ve gotten used to this kind of thing, but hearing it from Yachi doesn’t feel the same. Perhaps because I see her as someone who won’t be too susceptive at her surroundings.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to meddle with your private life!” Yachi’s hands jump from the rag on the floor near her knees to the front of her chest. She wiggles them ever so restlessly that it starts to scare me.

“Yachi, Yachi, listen…” I smile kindly, hoping for the girl to calm down. “I’m not dating him.”

There’s a moment of silence.

An awkward moment of silence.

“Really?!” Yachi squeaks. I don’t know why I feel extremely content when her brown eyes travel back at mine. Perhaps because they’re so lively?

“Really.” I nod undoubtedly, my smile’s brighter than the summer sun we have outside.

“Ah, I see then! I see! Sorry!” Yachi proceeds to stroke the back of her head while laughing gawkily. “Then Tsukishima must have a big crush on you…?”

“Hahaha. Some people assume that, but no, I don’t think so. He can be so mean sometimes.”

“Really? But… He... Um... He looked so hurt when you asked about that Kuroo guy…”

I promptly stop myself from being all bubbly. My eyebrows furrow as my jaw drops a bit. Seriously? I mean, did that seriously happen? If it did, then in some way I do understand the sole reason on why Yamaguchi and Kiyoko’s reaction was similar to Yachi’s. They thought of different words, but plainly the same meaning—that is Kei’s jealousy or anything else that fits with their description of love.

“Okay. Let’s say… I’ve seen him being so annoyed, especially when he had to teach Hinata and Kageyama-kun, but I’ve never seen him being like that… His eyes were so… I don’t know… Disappointed, but also angry at the same time? It’s darker than his usual expression!” Yachi explains more without me asking. I know how she carefully chooses and arranges her every word, albeit in the end it still doesn’t make any sense.

I let out a long sigh before I start to speak again, “You know, Yachi… I will only believe Kei likes me if he tells me himself. I befriend many boys, so I know how often people misunderstand these things. Close a bit, liking. Close a bit, dating. It’s not always like that, you know.”

“Then what about you? Do you like him?”

Do I like Kei? Funnily enough, no one has ever asked me that. Not even my hysterical parents. Everyone will only tease and joke and nothing more. It’s evident that they don’t really give a single concern about our real feelings. They only want to imagine things by themselves without even thinking of us, the main characters of their sugary fiction.

So, do I like Kei? The thing is I’m not that dumb. I’ve never really liked someone before, but I know what I will feel when I meet the one. Now do I feel happy around Kei? Only when he doesn’t vex me. Do I feel safe whenever he’s by my side? Yes, always. Do I miss him when he’s not around? Not really. Do I want to see him all the time? Not really. Do I want to date him? I can’t answer that right now.

In conclusion, there are more noes than yeses.

“No. Not now.” I shake my head.

“Not now? Then maybe later?”

“Mhm.” I smile faintly. “Maybe.”

Yachi grins as wide as her thin lips can handle. Her smooth cheeks blush and her eyes glimmers with glee. Don’t tell me that she sees Kei and I as her one true pairing? This is so bizarre because I actually see her and Kei as one. I chuckle. However that will be, we will know when it comes. Maybe I’ll date Kei after we graduate from high school, maybe Yachi will, or maybe we will date someone else and go to our separate ways.

One thing for sure. That mustn’t be our first priority for this moment. At least not for me.

* * *

I head to the cafeteria with Kiyoko and Yachi. All the other managers are still in the gym because they haven’t finished cleaning up. I wouldn’t mind to wait for them, but they forced us to leave first. It’s almost two p.m. and the last time I ate was at six. It was just a small portion of beef _teriyaki_ rice box before the morning practice began. I’m starving, I can devour two portions like Ushijima.

Ushijima.

Malevolent for me to admit, but I completely forget about him because all the stress built back in the gym. I can’t even check at him because my phone is in my bag and my bag is kept in one of the many classrooms on the third floor of this school. I’m going to sleep there tonight, thus everything is being gathered safely. Will he be okay? I want to know how many “sorry” he has written so far.

Now I feel bad.

“After this we’ll rest until four p.m., right?” I want to make sure that the announcement I heard this morning is still valid.

Kiyoko who walks on my left bobs her head. “Yes. They must be tired and practicing after heavy lunch is not good.”

“Yeah…” I respond, even though my brain is going off somewhere. Ushijima’s morning practice should end by now. Same like me, he’ll have lunch, then he’ll be free for the rest of the day. I have plenty of time to contact him.

“What’s wrong?” Kiyoko’s aware of my troublesome mind.

“Uh, nothing important. I just remember that I haven’t replied my friend’s chat. I kind of… left her hanging.” Maybe I should’ve answered shorter. The more I open my mouth, the more I feel this burdening guilt.

“You want to go to our room first?”

“No, no need. She’ll be okay, I hope.” God bless Nanako. She doesn’t even exist, but I keep using her as my way out. I guess as long as it works, I have nothing to worry about. It’s legit.

The three of us only need another minute to arrive in the big cafeteria of Nekoma. Once we open the door, we’re greeted by a loud clanking noise and people scream at each other, followed by the more important one—a smell of something savory. My eyes scan the whole room to find plates after plates of rice, glazed with thick dark brown curry sauce. Delicious. I can’t wait to eat several portions of that. Maybe I should eat less rice so my stomach can carry more of those succulent beefs.

No. Wait a minute.

I facepalm as I step closer to the long wood table right in the middle of this place, where Karasuno’s boys are crumpling together as one. I’m not wrong on this one. That’s not curry. That’s hayashi rice, which reminds me more and more of Ushijima. This is so uncanny. Why does the world always play around with me? Why is Ushijima everywhere? What does fate want from me?

“There you are.” Sugawara’s the first one who greets me, Kiyoko, and Yachi. His plate is still half-full, the same as the others, besides Kei who’s on the end of the long bench. He doesn’t eat much at all. I won’t be surprised if Yachi eats more than him.

“Your note is good, by the way!” Nishinoya who sits across Sugawara shouts. “I laughed so hard when I read your Bruno Mars lyric about me! Also, you’re so cute for putting emoji after every sentence!”

I show Nishinoya my right thumb and giggle at his usual noisiness. I don’t need to hear one praise from each person to know that they’re all satisfied with my work. I can tell from their definite eyes. This is the best. The feeling of being needed is like nothing else. I don’t want to have a groundless confidence when I’m still nothing compared to Ukai or someone greater, but I am so proud of myself. I’m just so pleased.

“Come on. Let’s grab food,” Kiyoko calls out for me with her sweet timbre.

“Okay!” I exclaim and follow her close behind, together with Yachi on my side.

* * *

I walk back to the table with a tray consists out of a plate full of hayashi rice and a glass of cold mineral water. I seat myself right next to Kei’s, while Kiyoko and Yachi do the same in front me, just beside Yamaguchi. I don’t see the point of asking, but I do think that Kei left a place for us—or at least me—on purpose. He does this all the time—when there’s an event in our school, when there’s a group project, when we have to sit somewhere together that is not in our class—so I’m pretty sure of it.

I overhear Sawamura and Nishinoya talk about my notebook, but I’m too absorbed by this match of hayashi rice heaven—I honestly don’t know what I’m talking about. I take the spoon from the right corner of the tray and use it to take a mouthful of rice, meat, and its sauce. I don’t remember the last time I had hayashi rice. Probably years ago, but I don’t think that’s the reason why my mouth feels like it’s been massaged by the best fingers in the world.

It’s indescribable. The meat literally melts in my mouth, as if it’s been slow-cooked for twenty-four hours. Hard to admit, but I might love this more than my mother’s curry, which I always praise and consider as her best recipe to date. Does Ushijima always taste the same thing as I do? If yes, then I know why he eats this for almost every day. It really is the best. I wouldn’t alter it any other way.

“I want more!” Tanaka suddenly stands up from his bench, followed by Azumane who voices out the same three words.

“I think I want another portion too…” Yamaguchi mutters before looking at Kei. “Tsukki, you don’t want more?”

Kei rudely sighs. “You know I can’t eat that much, Yamaguchi.”

Figure. I’ve always noticed that Kei doesn’t eat until his stomach is wholly filled. He stops when it doesn’t growl anymore. He can consume only ten tablespoons of rice sprinkled with sea salt and then done. What’s incredible is his capability to stay full throughout the day. I, on the other hand, will get hungry after five or six hours after my last meal. Some people—like my father—will feel it only after three hours.

“Uh. Kei.” I poke Kei’s right shoulder with my fingers.

“Hm?” Kei glances at me.

“I don’t really like the meat.” Right after saying that, I accidentally lick both corners of my lips to prove how much of a liar I am, but I don’t think Kei will notice the small mistake I make.

“So?” His voice seems to be colder than my drink.

“I can’t give them back to the cafeteria lady and I don’t want to throw them away. Sawamura-san will get angry, so—”

“You’re not going to force me to eat more,” Kei cuts through my words.

I click my tongue. He finds my real intention in a second.

“Someday I’ll make you eat more than this,” I promise myself. I suppose my motive before was too dubious. I’ll learn and I’ll come up with a better reason. I believe that there will be a day where I will outsmart him. Soon. This year. No longer than that.

“Hime-chan!”

I’m in the process of angling my spoon perfectly to scoop another piece of heaven when out of nowhere, Bokuto slams his palms on a spot between my plate and Yachi’s. We are all startled, mostly because how thundering his voice is. I’m even more puzzled than the others because he calls me “Hime-chan”, which basically means “princess”. I warned him to not call me “the Cursed Princess”, but then he calls me with only “princess”. Should I be flattered because he doesn’t add “cursed” to it?

Nah, it’s okay. That nickname isn’t as bad as the default one.

“Yes?” I hold my head up high to face his huge grin. I see Akaashi from far, still eating his food with some other players from Fukuroudani. Does that mean that no one will drag Bokuto away from me like before?

“Say, say, I want to see your curved spike! Will you be able to show me?” Bokuto sounds more like demanding than asking.

I raise my eyebrows. “What? No, I can’t play volleyball anymore.”

“Aw, really?! Just how bad is your shoulder?! I thought you might still be able to move!” Bokuto folds his arm, showing somewhat a disappointed face. Well, I apologize that I’m injured and can’t live up to people’s expectation anymore.

“What—come on, Bokuto! Why are you bothering that girl again?!” This time, the one person from Fukuroudani who scolds Bokuto isn’t Akaashi, but a small guy with a curly undercut brown hairstyle. I’m sure he’s the libero. It’s astonishing to see how every libero around me is shorter than Kiyoko.

Without giving any proper goodbye, Bokuto rotates his body and stomps away from my table. Obviously, he doesn’t forget to launch outburst at his teammate. His table is actually a lot closer than I expected. Only five or six meters from mine, but separated by three small tables in between.

I sigh as I continue eating my food. Deep on my mind, I keep preparing myself for Bokuto’s next comeback. I’ve met people with a spirited personality akin to his, so I know that he’ll keep bothering me until I give him what I want. I just need to find my way to push him as far as I can, then I’m safe. If I’m able.

“Anyway… what’s a curved spike?” Yachi questions me. She doesn’t appear to be that nervous anymore around me, which is a great leap in our relationship.

“That’s not a technical term, but yeah… Just like the name, it’s a spike or serve that’ll curve and rapidly spin. That’s my specialty,” I explain while chewing on one last bite of beef.

“Oh!” Yachi’s mouth arches into a perfect circle. “That sounds cool! Will Nishinoya-san be able to receive it?”

“I don’t know.” I grab my drink and gulp it down three times. “But what I know is that… I don’t think anyone here will be able to block me.”

“Quite arrogant, aren’t you? We’re boys and you’re a girl,” Kei brusquely snarls.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with gender and I’m only stating a fact. People here won’t be able to block me, especially you,” I emphasize the last word. “There’s only one person that’s able to block me and that’s my father.”

Kei instantly pulls my ponytail down. I grunt and push his body forceful enough, but then his stronger right hand moves to my forehead and grips some strands of hair before rumpling them. I squeak. I almost want to stab his face with my fork, but then we stop when Sawamura’s eyes are preying on us like he’s a lion and we’re fawns. If my father is the best blocker, then Sawamura is the best captain. He can muffle everyone with a single finger-snap.

Scary.

* * *

There are four Nekoma’s cafeteria ladies and they’re all super-mom. Today is Saturday, so actually they don’t have to go to work. The coaches don’t mind to buy us food from outside, but all four of them are willing to come as early as three a.m. and cook for us. Not only that, they also wash our dishes. They’ll go home at six p.m. after they’re done with our dinner—which only during this time will be served by the managers. They only remind us to put every dirty dish onto its prepared carts so they can clean it the next morning.

All the managers—including myself—offer them to do the washing part. Sure, there are more than fifty hungry people around here, but there are seven managers to help. Yet, they kindly refuse with a heart-warming smile. They say we’re already too busy with our own job and that they get paid to do any of these, so there’s no reason for us to lend our hands. They’re so lovely, I want to cry.

After I’m done with everything, I dash alone to the Nekoma’s main building. The rest of the boys have gone back earlier because they want to rest as soon as possible, while Kiyoko and Yachi are still eating. I opt to leave first because I can’t wait to check on my phone. My heart can’t stop hoping that Ushijima’s practice really is over, thus we don't have to wait on each other.

I’m such a selfish girl. I was the one who abruptly left because I wanted to teach him unknown lessons and now I act as if it’s also his fault if something bad occurs.

I arrive on the second floor to see some boys strolling here and there. There are six rooms around and each one of them is assigned to each volleyball team—there are five teams in total—plus one for the teacher and coaches. I continue to the next floor, the third floor, where all the managers stay. It’s designated that way so no one will bother us girls and the authorities can keep an eye on all the problematic boys.

Apparently, I’m not the first one who enters my temporary bedroom. There’s Kaori, the tall manager with ponytail from Fukuroudani—now by chance we have three managers with a ponytail from three different schools. We know each other’s name as we introduced ourselves this morning. She smiles at me as I kneel in front of my bag that’s been put atop a white folded futon, but then she goes back to her activity of lying on her own spreaded white futon while playing with a white tablet.

“Kaori, you’re not eating?” I ask without looking away from my right hand that’s gone inside of my bag, trying to find my missing phone.

“Yeah, later. I want to rest for a bit. My feet are killing me.”

“Ah, okay. Don’t forget to eat before we start the afternoon practice.”

I hear her murmur a small “yes”, at the same time as I finally take a good hold of my beloved gadget. I turn the power button on before I stand up to leave the classroom. The area around me is so empty, but I’m pretty positive that Kaori can only slightly hear when people speak outside and those who are one level below us won’t be able to perceive a single sound. Unless if you’re squawking sickly like Bokuto.

I keep staring at my phone as it loads. Once I’m able to access everything, I rush my fingers to connect to Nekoma’s Wi-Fi. Takeda told me that the password is _redsnackycat_. I don’t know who decided that, but it’s genius. People would guess _redcat,_ _blackcat_ , or something alongside _cat_ , but they would never think of the word _snacky_. What does that even mean? Maybe someone who likes to snack on something? Or a feeling of wanting to snack on something? I prefer to believe the latter.

I thought the connection would be dull because there are many people using the Wi-Fi all at once, but no. It’s turbo. Karasuno actually has a very fast connection as well and that’s good. That’s a must since this is 2013, not 1913. Everyone needs internet connection to do many things quicker. All these random trivia inside of my brain fly away somewhere when I open my LINE to see some chats from a few accounts.

And I gasp when I see the number twenty three besides Ushijima’s profile picture.

Do I see it right? Yes, I do indeed. There are twenty three chats from him. It might not be nothing, compared to thousands from the volleyball group, but I hope everyone realizes that this is Ushijima we’re talking about. Previously, I’ve never gotten more than three chats from him and sticker is included as one chat. Not only that, I get some missed calls. He must’ve been too unsettled and I feel even worse than ever.

 _ Ushijima _  
_I’m sorry 6:12 AM_  
_I didn’t mean to insult you 6:12 AM_  
6:13 AM  
_Wrong sticker 6:13 AM_  
__6:13 AM

I snort, attempting to control my laughter. Wrong sticker? It’s okay. No one’s going to order him to do _seppuku_ because of that. The thing is I imagine him being so flustered over that one tiny fault. How could he become such a cuddly creature?

 _ Ushijima _  
_[Missed call.] 6:13 AM_  
_[Missed call.] 6:13 AM_  
_Are you there? 6:13 AM_  
_[Missed call.] 6:13 AM_  
_[L/N]? 6:14 AM_  
_[Missed call.] 6:14 AM  
_

There’s five minutes of pause before his next words and how there are no more missed calls from him. I know he didn’t give up. He might not want to do an extra work because he knew I wouldn’t pick up.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Are you there? 6:19 AM_  
_I’m sorry._ _I didn’t mean anything bad 6:19 AM  
_

And I suppose receive more after he had breakfast because the time says a little bit more after 8 a.m., which should be just right when he had to start his morning practice. Perhaps they were typed when he was on the way to the gym. Not like it matters.

 _ Ushijima _  
_You’re still not there? 8:02 AM_  
_I’m going to my practice now_ 8:02 AM  
I don’t how to apologize more than this, but I hope you’ll forgive me 8:03 AM

Then his next message arrived around one p.m. or more than an hour ago, when I was still busy writing on my notebook and then cleaning the mess left behind in the gym. He must’ve had his lunch break by then. Maybe he still his.

 _Ushijima _  
_Did you block my account? 1:01 PM_  
_I think you did 1:01 PM  
_

I really want to know what he did for the next five minutes prior to his next sincere words for me.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Then I don’t know what’s the point of me typing any longer 1:06 PM_  
_Sometimes I misspoke, I understand. That’s why I’m so sorry 1:06 PM_  
_I don’t know what else to say 1:09 PM  
_

And that’s it.

I take a long tiring breath. Is it strange if my heart is quite bitter after I’m done reading everything? I did leave him on purpose, when I knew he would feel uneasy and he would apologize like he has murdered a newborn baby in front of their innocent parents. I have to type many things back. It’s okay if he won’t read instantly. He should know that I’m here and that I didn’t intend to hurt him.

 _ Me_  
_2:16 PM I didn’t block you_  
  _ 2:16 PM Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that_  
_ 2:16 PM I finished my practice at 1, but I cleaned up the gym first_  
_ 2:18 PM Then I went to have lunch_  
_ 2:18 PM I just came back  
_

Before I finish writing my last word, Ushijima reads all of my chat. I have no idea on why I’m so overwhelmed by an unprecedented emotion. I tilt my head to see my own reflection at the window in front of me. I look like I want to cry, because of someone I’ve only met face to face for three times. Or four. See? I don’t even remember that simple thing when I know other people will never forget the moment they catch a glimpse of the number one ace of this prefecture.

I wait, but Ushijima hasn’t given any reply yet. Is he dead or something? I don’t know what’s going on, but if I want to know, I must work on it myself, so I hurry to hop onto my next sentence. This is for the best. I wish.

 _ Me_  
_ 2:18 PM Where are you now?_  
_ 2:18 PM I’ll call you  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_In my room._ _You can call me 2:18 PM  
_

I breathe a great sigh of relief. For the first time, I check on my battery. It’s still forty-four percent. If it’s needed, I can have a pretty long phone call with Ushijima. So what am I waiting for? My right index finger moves fast to the call icon on the lower right of my screen. Because I know he’ll answer, I hurriedly press my phone against my right ear. He does pick the call as fast as lightning.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Again, I sigh, but this one is followed by a good laugh—although only from my side. We apologized at the same time. We didn’t say “hello” or go quiet for a moment. We immediately chanted our “sorry” and somehow it made everything okay.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters once more, fainter than any words he has ever projected through his mouth.

“Yeah. I wasn’t mad.” I stare back at the window in front of me. God knows how much my expression has changed. I grin like a elementary simpleton.

“You weren’t mad?” he repeats after me.

“No. It was my fault. I was being... weirdly heartless on purpose. I shouldn’t have done that.” My left hand scratches my nape as my brain thinks of something nonessential. Should it be weirdly heartless or heartlessly weird?

Ushijima doesn’t reply as swiftly as before. I can’t really hear anything from the other side, but I know for sure that the phone call is still going on between us.

“Ushi—” I bite my tongue when I realize that Kaori might be able to hear me say his name and I don’t want that. “Are you there?”

“Yes. I just…” It's Ushijima's turn to heave. “I don’t know why I troubled myself if you weren’t mad at me.”

“Yeah, you chatted me a lot.” I follow that up with a playful snigger.

“That’s not it.” His voice gets deeper. “I wasn’t really focused on my practice. My coach barely yells at me and he did today. My friends thought I had a fever.”

I open my mouth, only to close it after two seconds, and then I open it again, “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Hm…” I support my free left hand on my hip. “Have you ever fought with your good friend?”

“Not really.”

“Then that’s probably why,” I tell this clueless guy. “There were times when I couldn’t sleep because I thought my friends got upset for no reason at me.”

“No, I think it’s different.”

“Like what?”

"I have no idea."

I lift one of my eyebrows, muddled at Ushijima’s words.

“Hey, where’s my earphones?”

My mouth is already prepared to send more words to the guy on the other side, but a very familiar voice calls me out. I turn my head to my right, to the source of that voice. It’s Kei. What a perfect timing.

“Hang on,” I whisper to Ushijima as I put my phone down, albeit still seizing it tightly. I’m scared if I accidentally press on the speaker button, but I have to relax. That’s very unlikely to happen as it’s securely locked.

“Seriously, Hinata is so annoying. I can’t sleep with ease whenever he’s around,” Kei straightaway complains, which I understand. Hinata is very talkative, sure, but he also shows it when people around him are sleeping. It annoys Kei the most because of two reasons. One, he hates Hinata. Two, he can’t sleep that easily.

“It’s not with me. I gave it to Yamaguchi right after you slept,” I correct Kei.

“Really? Hm… Okay then…” Kei finishes his sentence with a loud yawn. “You’re not sleeping? What are you doing out here? Who are you calling?”

“My father,” I choose the first person that pops on my mind. At last, Nanako has her rest.

“I see…”

Kei doesn’t seem like he wants to leave soon and the whole world knows that I can’t just force him to leave. It should be fine because Ushijima knows that I’m not mad at him and that I’m here. He won’t run out of breath from waiting for two or three minutes.

“I don’t know why everyone’s so energized… It’s so annoying…” Kei’s eyes avert to the outside of the window, where I no longer look at because I’m all on him.

“What do you mean?”

“Shouldn’t they be exhausted after those unnecessarily a lot of practices…”

Okay. Now he’s the one who annoys the hell out of me.

“Unnecessarily a lot?” I smile, although it’s far from a sincere one. Isn’t it amazing how a single sentence can fully change someone’s mood?

Kei gazes back into my eyes, those pair of golden irises extended. “We’re the worst here, so what’s the purpose of trying too hard if we’re going to always lose?”

“Ah.” I nod, with face that’s still framed by my impurest form of smile. “Kei, have I told you that you’re a very smart guy? People will think ‘we’re the worst here, so we have to improve’. You, on the contrary, thinks the other way. What a smart guy. Very very avant-garde.”

“You don’t have to be that sarcastic.”

“You say that?” I grin enigmatically, giving a heavy emphasis on the “you”. “Calling our one in a million chances of playing with these amazing powerhouses as unnecessarily a lot, not eating enough food, being all depressed and dispassionate… I honestly don’t know what you want in our team…”

Kei frowns and sneers, “Shut up.”

“Back to you.”

He snaps his tongue so roughly before turning around and walking away. He’s mad. So am I. He should be grateful that I’m kind-hearted enough as I plan to keep what he just told me from everyone, simply because I don’t want to cause any problems. If in the future someone politely and earnestly asks me about him, then I’ll mention everything from beginning until the end. Specifically Ukai. He’s the coach, he has to know about this problematic big crow.

Once I’m sure that Kei’s at least ten meters away from me, I press my phone back against my right ear and greets Ushijima, “Sorry, that was my friend.”

“Kei?”

I understand very well that Ushijima could hear everything, but I can’t help but to quiver when he pronounces Kei’s name. It’s unusual. I can’t think of any other word to describe the oddity.

“Hm? Yeah, that’s his name,” I respond.

“His first name.”

“Yes…?” I drawl, until I realize what Ushijima could probably mean. “No, I’m not dating him! Seriously, even you?! People always think that we’re dating!”

“Ah, is that so?”

Wait a minute.

“…you didn’t think that way?” I carefully make sure.

“Not really.”

My poker face reflects so much on the window. I should loosen up next time, but truthfully, how? How when ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of Japan’s population think likewise? That zero point one is Ushijima.

“When will your practice continue?” Ushijima proceeds to our next topic. I haven’t told him anything about this away game’s schedule, but I bet he knows a lot because he has gone to some.

“At four until eight, then we’re going to have free time. Curfew’s at eleven,” I answer in detail.

“Can I call you tonight?”

My breath’s stuck as I bite my lower lip. Just for a single moment before I begin to smile like a blooming pink flower in the spring. I love how Ushijima doesn’t even hesitate to ask. Is it because he knows that he’ll get a perfect yes?

“Okay, but maybe at eight thirty because I have to clean up,” I need to mark this so he won’t wait like a lost panda and assume that he has made a nonexistent mistake again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, anyway!” I suddenly remember about something crucial. “Today’s lunch menu was hayashi rice!”

“Really?” His reaction is hilariously fast.

“Yes and I thought of you.”

“Really?” His timbre softens up.

“Yes and I felt so bad for not replying. Sorry again.”

“Don’t talk about that anymore,” he hushes me down. “Tell me more about your day.”

“There are some things, but I have to name names. Can I tell you later? I’ll type the reason after this.” And by that, I mean about Kaori who’s only several meters behind me and probably has heard everything. My phone call, my little quarrel with Kei, everything. Moreover, I want to tell Ushijima about Bokuto and she’s the latter’s manager. It’s no good.

“Sure,” Ushijima agrees on spot.

“How if you tell me about yourself?” I turn to ask.

“About myself? There’s nothing interesting about me.”

“Don’t say that!” I shout, hinting him that his statement is baseless. “You’re Ushijima Wakatoshi. There must be something about you.”

“Okay. Let me think about it.”

I giggle. What a pure person that takes everything so literally.

“I think you should rest.” He doesn’t give me what I want, instead he advises me something that I’m actually more than happy to do.

“Um… Is that okay?” I don’t even know why I ask a permission from him. As if he’s a king and I’m merely a beggar he provides.

“Yes, I want you to rest.” His tone does sound like a king’s ultimatum which I must obey.

“Okay,” I mumble softly. “I’ll chat you when I wake up and I’ll charge my phone in the meantime.”

“Rest well.”

“Yes.” I allow myself to be immersed by the beautiful blue sky outside, which soon will turn into several shades of orange. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should’ve been titled “How Ushiwaka Knew Tsukki’s Existence”.  
> Or “How I Knew Your Other Guy". :p
> 
> Anyway yeah, the "problematic players” here are Tsukki and Bokuto… and Ushiwaka, kind of.


	14. Later That Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s tiring.”_
> 
> _“What is?”_
> 
> _“Not being able to tell anyone about you.”_
> 
> Oh.
> 
> I unconsciously bite my lower lip. Truth be told, more or less, I don’t feel the same way. My heart does flinch after hearing him say that, but I just don’t see the point of telling anyone from my side about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there~
> 
> As usual, I don’t know how to begin this chapter, so I’ll just say that I might enjoy S03E07 a bit too much. (〃＾▽＾〃)  
> All of my closest people asked why I couldn’t shut up for once about Ushiwaka (lol sorry for them), then I started to talk about his left-handedness and how many people in my country still see it as something odd.
> 
> Not like anyone really cares, but I was born left-handed until I was 5-6 years old. I remember my whole family tried to convert me and stated that left-hand is rude and used to touch dirty things, so don’t use it to eat (?). But unfortunately for them, until now, I still have a lot of tendencies to use my left-hand. :p
> 
> In the end, it doesn’t matter. Left-handed, right-handed, it won’t define anything about you. #quoteoftheweek #hahaha  
> (well unless you’re an athlete cause it does make a difference)
> 
> Important!  
> \- So Ushiwaka’s father name is Utsui Takashi, not Sorai Takashi. I did change everything already. ;_;  
> \- HQ real timeline is in 2013, so you’ll encounter some old movies being mentioned throughout this fic (12 Years a Slave, Frozen, The Conjuring, etc.)  
> \- There are so many dialogues in this chapter…  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

After I woke up from my afternoon nap, Kiyoko informed me that Tanaka’s older sister’s the one who’s apparently driving Hinata and Kageyama to Tokyo. As planned by Tanaka, they did arrive in Nekoma exactly two hours ago and because of them, now we finally win a match against Shinzen High School, which also happens to be the last set of the day for us. We feel more thankful than happy as we don’t have to do any penalty anymore.

I gaze at Hinata who wipes off some beads of sweat from his temples with the back of his right hand. I sense something off of him, like he doesn’t look downright okay or something. I won’t remind him about this, but right after he showed himself at the gym, he vomited on the floor because Tanaka’s older sister couldn’t drive very well and twirled his inside. Yet, I don’t think that’s the reason. I don’t think he’s weary either—I mean, I’m talking about Hinata who has an infinite stamina, more than anyone else around here.

“What’s the matter?” I step closer to hand him his damp white towel. He has used the item for the past few hours, so no wonder if that happens.

Without a smile, he takes the towel and swaps his right hand with it. “They’re strong.”

“Yes, and then? Don’t tell me that you’re bothered by that…” My slender right fingers hop onto his hair and readjust all the twisted strands there. People will think that I treat him like an inadequate baby. No, that should be corrected into I treat him more like my younger brother—although he’s six months older than me. He’s shorter and childlike. Without any further explanation, my sibling-relationship treatment should be understood and accepted.

“Not bothered,” Hinata mutters vaguely.

“Lev, come on!”

Just when I intend to interrogate Hinata more, my attention is captured by Nekoma and Ubugawa who are still playing right in front of us. Only a second after, I’m mesmerized by this silver-haired giant from Nekoma. He’s very tall, so he jumps super high and smashes the volleyball straight down like it’s not a big deal. If my eyes and focus miss a beat, I won’t be able follow his hand’s movement at all. I’m truly surprised as this is his first time playing for the entire day.

“That’s amazing,” Azumane who stands on my southeast—just between me and Hinata—articulates his admiration.

I rotate my body slightly to look at him from one corner of my eyes and nod. I see Sugawara who stands on his right has the same reaction as me. Of course, Hinata too. The latter even opens his mouth like he just saw a cannonball exploded from close by. Well, Lev—if I didn’t mishear his name—sure is a cannon.

“I didn’t really notice him because he didn’t play before, but isn’t he really big? He might be over one hundred ninety,” Sugawara adds, while dabbing his neck with a towel that wraps his right palm.

“He is over one hundred ninety,” I drop emphasis on my every word. “Kei is one hundred eighty-eight and that guy is taller. I think he is mixed race.”

“I think so too. His arms and legs are so long,” Azumane agrees on me. The first time I met him, I thought he was mixed too, until I was told no.

“Mhm. My mother will definitely give someone like him a scholarship.”

And who would’ve guessed that my sentence’s capable to make Hinata, Sugawara, and Azumane all inquisitive? For sure they know who my mother is and what I just said was merely a fact, so what’s unusual about that?

“Your mother’s team is really strong.” Sugawara drinks from the bottle he holds with his left hand before continuing, “They won male’s Winter Cup for the past six years, am I right?”

“S-six years?!” Hinata squeaks. His eyes are glinting with nonexistent stars. I suppose he’s interested in knowing more, so perhaps my mother can take a second look at him.

I giggle. “Yeah, they also won the others.”

“The others?!”

Now it’s Sugawara’s turn to crack a laugh, followed by his will to share his abundant knowledge about volleyball news to Hinata. Japan has four annual university level volleyball championships. Spring Cup in April, All East Japan in June and July, Fall Cup in October, and the biggest one is All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championship or Winter Cup in December. All of them are nationwide.

In high school level, there are only two nationwide championships, which is Interhigh in June and the biggest one is Spring High or Spring Cup in August and October. The nationals will normally be held two months after—so if Karasuno wins Spring High preliminaries for Miyagi this year, we’ll go to Tokyo to compete with other teams in January next year. We also have something called National Athletic Meet or National Sports Festival of Japan in September and October, but it’s more general like Olympics, where everyone from every branch of sport will gather in one place, all at the same time. They also have sports for athletes with disabilities. Just like its name, it’s a sport “festival”. Karasuno doesn’t join the latter for unknown reason.

“That’s so cool!” Hinata shouts proudly for me. “Will she give scholarships to us from Karasuno?”

“I don’t know, but mostly she scouts boys from Datekou or Shiratorizawa because she thinks height and power are a must.” My words make Hinata’s expression slightly saddened, so I slap his back to give him some motivations. “My father loves to play with techniques, like Ukai-san. If you’re good enough, there’s a high chance that he’ll scout you.”

“But he doesn’t win the nationals.”

I shrug. “He’s in top sixteen, among hundreds of universities. Top eight or four, sometimes.”

“But he doesn’t win the nationals.”

My next respond is a dim smile, even though there’s more to my story. Compared to someone lifeless like Kei, Hinata’s personality is dazzling. It’s full of love, passion, and undefeatable thirst to improve relentlessly. His spirit won’t tremble solely because of one blunt fact, but I know mine will daunt him, even for a short moment. I don’t want that, so I’ll keep everything inside.

My father has great players with techniques, but they’re too diverse. Some are short, some are weak, some don’t have unique skills, some aren’t genius. My mother has great players with techniques, all of them are tall, strong, skillful, and prodigies. I don’t have to write down any formula akin to math to explain which one is better. The one who wins is always the indestructible one.

This is harsh, but with what Hinata has right now, I don’t think he’ll ever be scouted by powerhouse universities. Sure, he can jump, but other people who are way taller—like Lev—can jump way higher than him. No matter how quick, energetic, and zealous he can be, he just won’t make the cut. That’s the reality he has to acknowledge as we’re talking about university level, not high school, and clearly, there’s still world-class level. He won’t survive.

* * *

The practice officially ends at eight p.m. and almost everyone has their dinner straightaway. I say almost because some are still being vigorous in the gym, all by themselves because the teachers and coaches even feel enough is enough. Whatever they do, the cafeteria will be closed at at nine p.m. by Nekoma’s head coach, Nekomata—it truly is confusing—and that’s it. He won’t care about those who haven’t had anything to fill their grumbling stomach.

As soon as I’m done with my own dinner, I head back to the manager’s room alone like earlier. Kei and the others have gone to take a bath, while once again, Kiyoko and Yachi are still enjoying every bite of their food. It’s a simple _katsudon_ , so I didn’t sense the same magnetic thrill as when I had that glorious _hayashi_ rice for lunch. Could be also because of how often I eat _katsudon_ back home. It’s very easy to make, that’s why it’s one of my lazy mother’s go-to recipes.

“Ah, Hime-chan!”

I gulp when I hear this distinctive voice, far on my left. I don’t really want to halt, but I don’t want to be rude to someone who actually hasn’t done anything vengeful to me either. I don’t know why I’m having a dilemma over something silly like this.

“What’s up, Bokuto-san?” The minute I stop my feet and turn my body forty-five degree to my west, I enunciate my caller’s name. I see Akaashi following casually behind him. I totally feel okay whenever the setter’s around. At least he’ll be able to control his captain, if something irksome occurs between me and him.

“Are you going to sleep now?!” Bokuto’s as loud as ever. His arms akimbo.

_No, I won’t. I’m going to call Ushijima because I’ve made a promise with him. After we’re done, I’ll take a bath and brush my teeth. I think I’ll sleep at ten, minimum. It all depends on how long Ushijima wants to hold our call. Maybe I have to do more management things after that._

I can’t say any of that, can I?

“Yeah, I’m sleepy,” I choose to lie, of course. If I could, I would force Bokuto and Akaashi to have dinner so they can leave me alone. Sadly, we were in the cafeteria at the same time, only I left a minute earlier than them. Without asking any permission, I start to move my feet again.

“So I saw today that you’re a manager, but also helping to coach?” Bokuto asks another question and begins to trail my path. Akaashi does the same.

“Yes, Ukai-san asked me,” I answer shortly.

“That’s great! Just like your parents!” Bokuto’s voice could only calm down less than ten seconds. I wish he doesn’t do the same when we’re all sleeping.

“Yeah, I hope I can be as good as them.”

“Don’t say that! Of course you can!”

I snigger. As much as he annoys me, I can’t bring myself to hate this guy. He’s optimistic, witty, and quick with people. In fact, I can imagine us being besties and hang out every weekend. Add Nishonoya and Tanaka. It’ll be crazily loud, we can get arrested.

“Your mother is the greatest volleyball coach ever! I watch her on TV all the time!” Bokuto continues his praises after praises. “Her team is so strong! She keeps beating those arrogance from Tokyo! I really want to see her watch her coach live!”

“Bokuto-san, I’m just wondering…” Akaashi makes me tilt my head to my southwest, where he stands behind Bokuto who walks closely on my left. “Are you actually trying to get a scholarship from her mother?”

“W-why are you saying that?!” Bokuto shouts before puffing both of his cheeks. What’s going on? Is he mad now? Those big owl cheeks are legitimately cute and I can feel my knees weaken. This is a red sign. A warning for me to step off.

I travel my eyes to Akaashi and it’s not an awe to realize his are already on mine. We have this sort of telepathy about what’s currently happening. That scholarship is indeed one of Bokuto’s intentions to keep bothering me. His other intention is to watch me play, which I can’t fulfil. I don’t know every shade of his personality as I just met him today, but I believe there are more to come from him.

“Well…” I turn my face back to the front. “To be honest, who I recommend to my mother won’t be heard. There’s a big chance that she’ll scout you, though. I mean… you’re top five high school aces.”

“Really?!” I almost bounce from the ground when Bokuto abruptly screams, followed by his change of expression from sad and depressed to happy and relieved.

I snort with soft laughter. That’s very quick for me to learn one new thing about him. He’s such a simple guy. He’ll be very easy to handle. As long as we say the things he wants to hear, he’ll be motivated and work harder. He reminds me of Goshiki.

This is maddening. I don’t know why a guy who doesn’t chat me for two months keeps popping back on my mind.

“How many people does she scout yearly?” Bokuto throws another question.

“Twenty or thirty, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Only throughout Japan or worldwide?”

“Hm… only Japan, I think?” I rub my chin with my right thumb and index finger. “I’ve never seen her having a foreign student. By foreign, I mean from Europe or America. Maybe he has some students from other parts of Asia. China or something like that.”

Bokuto grunts and his mood goes back down—or high. “Why don’t you know anything about your own mother?!”

“What?!” I swear everyone can see some veins on my forehead, all thanks to Bokuto. “Sorry that she never tells me anything!”

“Then why don’t you ask?!”

“Because I don’t care! Not like she’ll answer, anyway!”

“…cut it out, please?” Akaashi intervenes us and sighs. His face looks so bored and done with this life. I don’t know why I like his mien so much, especially when compared to his cheerful captain.

“Then, I’ll go back first.” Finally, my courage takes over my patience. I do hear Bokuto screeching, calling out my name in vain, but I don’t look back. Not even once. I know if I stay, I’ll spend the next half an hour bantering with that noisy owl. I have other thing to do at the moment, so maybe tomorrow.

Maybe never.

* * *

Once I go back to the managers’ room, I’m greeted by no one. Some managers from the other schools have gone back from the cafetaria earlier than me, so probably they’re taking a bath at the moment. Without further ado, I step closer to my folded futon and kneel—same thing I did six hours ago. I unzip my travel bag that’s put on the futon and grab my phone. It’s completely off, thus my next move is to turn it back on.

The sole purpose of why I turned it off before I left for the afternoon practice was so the battery wouldn’t drain for nothing. The reason why I don’t want the battery to drain is because I want to call Ushijima when I’m outside, far from the the building where I’m at, so no one will bother us like what Kei did before. If the battery doesn’t last, then I can’t charge it anywhere. I can only go back to my room, but then I can’t call Ushijima.

It’s something simple, but sounds so complicated. It makes me all dizzy.

As I wait for my phone to load everything needed, I stand up and leave the room hastily. I guess it’s the best if I tuck the gadget inside of my shirt’s left pocket. Lately, my current concern has always been people who might snatch away my phone. I never double checked whether I locked my phone or no, but now I always do. Just in case.

I skip some steps as I head downstairs. Previously when I went up, I only saw some unknown boys from Shinzen walking aimlessly in group. Now I see Lev standing near a big window with Yaku—a libero from Nekoma. Then there are Nishinoya and Azumane, heading to my direction with a plastic bag in each hand which I bet contained all of their bathing supplies.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Out of nowhere, my body is pulled back by a big hand that yanks my ponytail. I click my tongue as I rotate my body around. This guy again. This smug smirk and facial expression again.

“What, Kei-chan?” I greet him with a scowl, but my eyes fixate on his wet hair and a blue towel that coils untidily around his long neck. Because he doesn’t dry his hair very well, I can see many wet spots all over his shirt. Is he stupidly inept or what? Why can’t he take care of himself? Not forget to mention that he still doesn’t eat enough.

“I ask, you answer.” He raises his lean fingers to briefly pinch a big portion my left cheek.

“Cafeteria. I want to grab some fruits.” With all the composure I profess, I tell another lie. “Do you need something from me?”

Kei scoffs, “Why would I need something from you?”

“You’re so weird. Calling me over and then throwing me away like that. _Tsundere_ enough?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waves his hand nonchalantly before passing by me.

I take a deep breath as I watch him leave. I almost thought that he was going to follow me or ask me to do something together with him—like watching videos or play games. We always do that every time we have a free time, but nothing important to work on. Not like I mind at all—in all honestly, I’ll choose him or any other Karasuno’s member over Ushijima. The thing is I don’t want Ushijima to be a sad teddy bear all over again.

It’s hilarious to see how I treat Ushijima—who’s older and stronger and scarier than me or anyone I’ve ever met before—like my younger brother. Like how I treat Hinata. There’s no written or unspoken rule that forbids that, but it still is noteworthy. I suppose as long as he’s content, then I’m also happy.

* * *

_Ushijima  
Do you watch Disney animation? 5:38 PM_

I lean my back on an outer wall of one of Nekoma’s gyms, around five meters behind where the cafeteria is placed. I don’t want to be that far away from any other humans because that’s creepy and I can get mistaken as a delinquent by some securities. I’m also aware that some people can see me, particularly those who are still practicing in the other gyms. What’s essential now is that I’m able to know when someone walks close, so I can lower my voice and be careful to not mention any name.

Soon, my eyes are back to Ushijima’s chat that I just read. That’s the only message I received from him. It’s been around six to seven hours since the last time we talked, so I somehow expect more—at least way more than a random question about Disney. I’m clueless, but the only way to find out is ask.

 _ Me_  
_ 9:47 PM Hello, I just got back from having dinner_  
_ 9:47 PM I do watch Disney movies, b_ _ut I like Dreamworks more_  
_ 9:47 PM Why are you asking that out of nowhere?_

As always, Ushijima instantly types back. What did he do before this? Did he just wait for me while doing nothing? I’ll also ask him about that.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Dreamworks? 9:47 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:48 PM Kung fu panda_  
_ 9:48 PM How to train your dragon, etc_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Call? 9:48 PM_

I smile at that lovely tiny wish. To think of it, I always smile whenever I’m with him, don’t I? Mainly because of  how straightforward and cutely demanding he is. Again, just like an innocent teddy bear.

_Me  
   9:48 PM Okay_

It doesn’t even take a blink of an eye for his name to appear bigger on my screen. Obviously, I don’t think twice to pick his call up and hold my phone tightly against my right ear.

“So what’s wrong about Disney animation?” I immediately ask without any form of greeting. I don’t think that’s necessary.

“Tendou keeps talking about this Disney animation called _Frozen_ and forced me to watch the trailer. Three times,” Ushijima smoothly explains.

Does he know how adorable that is? He’s forced by his friend to watch the same trailer of Disney animation for three times and agreed. He doesn’t seem to hate it either.

“Oh, I know that one. I watched the trailer as well. I think it could be good,” I state my opinion. “You want to watch it? I think it’s released this December because you know… frozen.”

And then there’s no answer. And how I feel so sad.

Seriously? He doesn’t get this one simple pun? Seriously serious? I’m disappointed. Right now I’m as blue as winter. See? Another simple pun, or phrase, or whatever.

“You know! Frozen, ice—”

“I understand,” Ushijima doesn’t let me finish and I’m entirely grateful for that. I even exhale a long breath, just to show how glad I am that he’s not as dumb as I think he is.

“Okay. So you want to watch them?” I murmur the same question again.

“If my friends ask, then I don’t see any reason to refuse.”

I huff, “You’re a good friend material.”

“Hm? You can watch with us if you want to. There’s a cinema near Shiratorizawa. Only ten minutes away by walking.”

“No way.” I straighten my back and I hold my head up high, just to perceive a blank night sky without any stars. “I won’t go near Shiratorizawa.”

“Why?”

“I mean… I won’t hang out with your team. Why would I? People will see and I don’t want my friends here to find out,” I rephrase my sentences. This one was purely my mistake, not because Ushijima once again didn’t understand.

“It’s tiring.”

I sheathe my free hand inside my sweatpants’ left pocket. “What is?”

“Not being able to tell anyone about you.”

Oh.

I unconsciously bite my lower lip. Truth be told, more or less, I don’t feel the same way. My heart does flinch after hearing him say that, but I just don’t see the point of telling anyone from my side about him. That’ll bring me even more trouble. People will ask me so many things and might be accusing me for being a double-agent. Hyperbole, true, but it could be happening for real as long as we have people who can’t keep a cool head like Kei or Kageyama. I’m already irritated by how many creatures ask about my parents. I don’t want to add Ushijima to that daily dose of poison.

“I don’t understand our relationship,” I reveal my honest feeling. Deep down on my mind, I do feel that way.

“Neither do I.”

“I don’t even know how we got close.”

“Really? That one I know.”

Oh, my. See? He makes me feel like a villain all over again, simply because I play around a bit with words. A bit. He uses so many metaphors himself, but when it’s me, his big brain doesn’t want to buffer a second.

“I didn’t mean it literally… It’s like…” I readjust the position of my legs. “I don’t know how it all happened so fast. The meeting on my way home, then the party, then you helped me with the posters, then this… We’ve been contacting each other every day for quite some time.”

“You don’t like it?”

I giggle half-heartedly. “Yeah, I don’t like it. That’s why I’m still contacting you.”

There’s another pause.

“I mean—”

“I understand.” Again, Ushijima slips in.

I click my tongue softly. I’m not mad at him, but is he messing up with me or what? Sometimes he does understand, most of the times he doesn’t. How am I supposed to know which one is going to happen? Please.

“By the way, do you know Bokuto from Fukuroudani? I’ve been wanting to tell you about him,” I move to another topic, which I hope will be a refreshing one. It’s about Bokuto, after all.

“The loud one?”

“Hahaha. Yeah the loud one,” I confirm. Even Ushijima thinks of Bokuto that way. I really want to see them spending time next to each other. Probably Ushijima will pass out with bleeding ears.

“What about him?”

“So… This morning, he came to me and said that he knew me as the Cursed Princess. That’s not something new to hear. Then he came again during lunch and asked me to show him my curved spike. I rejected, of course. Oh, he also called me ‘Hime-chan’! Then he came again after I had dinner and spoke so much about my mother. Apparently, he’s trying to get a scholarship from my mother. What a precious guy.”

“Is that so? But I don’t think your mother will give him a scholarship.”

That was an interesting reply, so I frown. “Why?”

“He’s unstable.”

“Eh?” My tone rises. “Like mentally ill? He sure is roaring around, but he seems healthy.”

“No, I mean his play style,” Ushijima corrects me. “He’s moody. Fukuroudani has never gone to top eight of the nationals because of him.”

“Because he’s moody?” I mumble Ushijima’s word, albeit I have no idea what he means. At least not one hundred percent.

“Yes. Your mother’s team doesn’t need someone with holes like him.”

There we go again with Ushijima and his realistic bluntness.

“What about you? Does my mother give you scholarship?” I sincerely have no idea about what my parents do in their job. I only know if they tell me.

“Not yet.”

I widen my eyes, much to my great disbelief. “Seriously? But she’ll give you one, I’m sure of it. She said she always takes people from Shiratorizawa.”

“Normally scouting will begin in Summer. That happens with Shiratorizawa.”

“Oh, yeah. I got mine last Summer as well.” I smile a tad, still feeling unpleasant that in the end, I didn’t go to the aforementioned school. “Which university do you think you will choose? Will you even go to one in Japan?”

“I don’t know, but there’s one from Italy and Brazil asking for me.”

Funnily, I’m not as surprised as when I heard that my mother hasn’t given him any scholarship. That’s how magnificent Ushijima is to my eyes—and other people’s. It feels that he doesn’t belong to live among commoners like me.

“That’s far, but isn’t Brazil very good with their volleyball?” My voice becomes softer.

“Yes, but there are many factors to think about.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you! What are you doing out there?!”

I startle when I hear Ukai’s slightly raspy voice yelling at me. I tilt my head to my right, to see him standing still with a plain white t-shirt and plain black shorts. Previously, he wore his usual red tracksuit, so most likely he has just taken a bath.

“Come with me, I need to talk to you about our program!”

“A-ah. Okay, Ukai-san!” I’m so confused at the current situation. I keep being disturbed by many things, but then again, I’m a manager slash co-coach or something alongside that title. This busy schedule is bound to be expected.

“You have to go?” I hear Ushijima’s voice saddened a bit.

No, no, no. That must be my feeling only.

“Yeah. He needs to discuss about our players and stuff.” I move my feet to follow Ukai, right after he turns around to head back to the main building. “There are still many more things I want to tell, but nah.”

“We can call again later or tomorrow.”

“You know… I don’t want to be unnecessarily dramatic or whatnot,” I lower my voice as I’m afraid if Ukai who’s seven or eight meters in front of me will hear—it’s unlikely, but it can happen. “I just think it’s better if we don’t call each other that much?”

“I can’t accept that,” Ushijima gives such a formal answer. “I’ll never trade you with anything.”

I chuckle at his seriousness—or exaggeration. “What are you talking about? We can still chat.”

“I don’t want only that.”

I hiss jokingly. “Why are you so persistent? You have so many friends ready to talk to you at any given time. Go talk to Tendou or Seri.”

“Semi.”

“Whatever.” I stick my tongue out, although no one can see it. “Bye.”

“Hang on—”

After I one-sidedly end the call, I shift to our chat. My screen is so oily from my dirty face, so I wipe it roughly with my shirt. It helps a bit, but I’ll clean it thoroughly when I have an access to wet tissue or something else. I have to take a bath as well.

 _Ushijima_  
_10:02 PM_

Come on. There’s no way I’ll leave him hanging for hours again. There’s no way I or someone will have the heart to hurt him. Even if a bad person offers a sum of money.

Well, then it depends on how much the offer is.

I’m not greedy, but money is powerful.

 _Me_  
_ 10:02 PM I’m kidding_  
_ 10:02 PM Don’t take everything too seriously_  
_ 10:02 PM Talk to you later, okay?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_10:03 PM_

 _Me_  
_10:03 PM_   

_ Ushijima _  
_10:03 PM_

 _ Me_  
_10:03 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_10:03 PM_

I beam all by myself as I swipe away our chat. I’m sorry, but I can see us sending stickers ceaselessly for the next thirty minutes. This has to end somehow, so I wish him well and a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not 100% sure about all the annual volleyball championships because Google and Wikipedia don’t provide enough and sadly, I don’t understand Japanese. Aside from that, most of these championship websites are down or unavailable. The only one accessible with English language is [JVA’s official website](https://www.jva.or.jp/en/), which is the combination of the male and female national teams… I think.
> 
> All the information I wrote above I got from [here](http://global.chuo-u.ac.jp/english/features/2015/08/7462), the one about scouting Ishikawa Yuki. He’s a really good volleyball player. Was born in 1995, only a year older than me, but seems bright and solid. If you have time, go watch his videos on Youtube. There are lots of them. :)


	15. Groundless Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He has every attribute needed to be a prominent volleyball star! This is such a waste! Do you know how much a top-class athlete is paid per season? Hundreds of millions of yen! He can be one of them!”
> 
> “Yeah, I know…”
> 
> I keep whining miserably, “I don’t know what I should do! I really wish for him to become successful like my father in the future, but I’m not even sure if he wants that!”
> 
> “Yeah…” Yamaguchi smiles softly, somewhat lovely. “I know that very well…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone!
> 
> Sorry, but no Ushiwaka on this chapter. I promise he'll be there for the next chapter(s)! I already wrote down many ideas for that cutie teddy bear. ♥
> 
> And I can't wait until we get into the one full week of summer training camp, when drama will arise~ （￣□￣）
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

It’s nine a.m. in the morning. Same as yesterday, we’re all gathered in this big gym, where Nekoma is appointed to be Karasuno’s first opponent of the second or last day of the away game. The second opponent will be Ubugawa, the third will be Shinzen, and the last will be Fukuroudani. Approximately, we’ll finish everything at three p.m. and head back home. We have to leave that early so we won’t arrive too late in Miyagi, unless if Takeda and Ukai want to be scolded by our parents.

I sit on a grey folding-chair between Yachi and Kiyoko on my left, along with Ukai and Takeda on my right. As usual, Kiyoko has her personal notebook ready to record down all the statistics of our players, while I have mine for some criticism that I’m pretty sure will have. A lot. I kind of feel bad for Yachi who doesn’t do anything other than offering drinks and towels, but I believe she’ll be useful in the future. Right now, she’s still learning.

“Oh! That silver-haired guy is a starting player now!” Takeda exclaims when seven of Nekoma players begin to position themselves on their side of the court. I angle my neck perfectly, to enable myself to see Lev, the person mentioned. This is his second time playing, with last night as his first.

“I think yesterday he was still preparing himself. He wasn’t ready yet. Nekomata-sensei told me that he just learned volleyball in high school,” Ukai informs something I’ve never heard before.

“What?!” I yelp, taking Ukai and Takeda’s attention all at once. “He’s a first year, right?! So he just began around four months ago?!”

Ukai nods surely before he turns his head back to the front. “I’m not sure if he’s a prodigy, but Nekomata-sensei won’t randomly choose someone incapable to become a regular.”

I squeeze both of my palms that rest still on my lap. A moment later, the match in front of me begins. My focus has always been split into two. One for my own team, one for the opponent’s team. This time, I dedicate the latter wholly to Lev. I know his Russian blood blesses him with colossal frame, but there must be something that makes him special. I need to know that.

In the first three minutes of the set, two points are easily scored by Karasuno. The first one is from Azumane’s back attack and the second one is from Hinata. On the other hand, Nekoma has only gotten one point from their punk ace—I think his name is Tora, he’s the one who called me sexy and tall. I don’t know his last name nor do I want to find out. So far, Lev has tried to jump all over the place to stop our spikes. I still can’t draw out his blocking style, thus I can’t judge him based on anything.

“Ah!” Yachi gasps fearfully as I shudder with mouth open wide. Just after I thought of Lev for not flaunting any unique stance yet, he immediately managed to block Hinata’s next quick. I tilt my head to see Ukai and Takeda. Obviously, they’re also as surprised as me.

This is Lev’s second time playing for the away game. This is his first time playing against duo Hinata and Kageyama. This is his first time going head to head with their specialty. Yet, on his third try, he successfully blocked Hinata. Let me repeat that. On his third try only, he successfully blocked Hinata. That’s something remarkable.

“H-he stopped it…” Takeda’s the first one who comments on what just happened. “He stopped that quick attack so easily…”

Ukai sighs and folds his arms. “Nekoma has always been good at reacting to that quick attack.”

“His reaction is good,” I mutter.

“Yes. His reaction is good,” Ukai does nothing but to repeat after me. Meaning, he agrees on my opinion.

My eyes shift back to the battlefield. The more I see, the more I notice one distinctive element about Lev. I suppose he doesn’t really have any idea of what’s going on, shown by how his teammates always tell him what to do. Kenma, Nekoma’s setter—I know his name because Hinata always shouts it out loud—has to keep guiding him to his next movement. Kuroo and Yaku do the same. He’s basically a baby cat, the same as Hinata who has to be led by Kageyama’s toss.

“One touch!” Lev apprises after he’s able to use his long fingers to repel Hinata’s normal quick. If he’s faster than this, I believe he can block anything, even a powerful spike from a two-meter guy. If he’s smarter—like Kei or more—then I don’t know. He can just dropout from high school and become a starting member of a top-tier volleyball team in Japan. Everything he owns will be a reputable asset.

Right away after Lev scores using the same ball he touched, Ukai requests a timeout. I take a glimpse at the board on the northeast of my seat. _First set. Karasuno 02, Nekoma 03._ If this were a real competition, it’d be so embarrassing for us to ask for a time-out already. I mean, concerning the fact that our foundation and abilities aren’t that bad.

Guided by Sawamura, all twelve of Karasuno’s players run and gather in front of their coach. They’re not even that sweaty—for God’s sake, they only played for less than ten minutes—but as managers, Kiyoko, Yachi, and I are obligated to give them their water bottles and towels. Every timeout is only for thirty seconds—unless if it’s national or international levels, which is a minute—so the three of us have to do everything hastily.

“Calm down. Nekoma has always had an eye on our quicks. For now, let’s just mainly have Azumane and Tanaka attacking from the left,” Ukai encourages his kids as I carry a stack of clean white towels and start to pass them to the second years. Kageyama, Azumane, and Tanaka respond with a loud “yeah”.

But will that really solve the problem? No, it won’t. They should’ve known that. My clubmates aren’t stupid.

“[L/N], do you have anything to say?” Ukai permits me.

I look over my left shoulder, to receive some pairs of colorful eyes staring keenly and anxiously at me. I know the meaning behind those. They expect to hear another great advice after the note I gave them yesterday.

“You know that only won’t solve anything, right? I thought we wanted to conquer the nationals?” I deliberately express what’s on my mind with a small filter. All of their eyebrows furrow—besides Kei who always has zero emotion. Though maybe there’s something more behind those thick glasses. Maybe.

“What should we do?” Sugawara asks eagerly. I always feel warm whenever I sense someone being so passionate about something.

“That I don’t know yet, but the more you play, the more chance there is to find the solution,” I state before turning my head back to continue distributing the towels on my hands.

In all honesty, I feel insecure with the current situation Karasuno is in. There are many flaws to point, many plans to project, and many tricks to implement. The thing is I don’t know if everyone is capable to follow that. I can’t just force them to watch and copy Bokuto or Ushijima, with hope that they’ll instantly change in a week or two. It’s not that simple. Even prodigies need some time to adjust.

* * *

The match continues like usual and Nekoma’s still as solid as before. I’ve been told that they have God-like receive and that’s validly proven. Yaku is just as flexible as Nishinoya. I don’t know which one is better, but I can optimistically declare that they have what it takes to become a regular of any powerhouse school in this country. The thing is, Nekoma’s other players are also proficient in their own role, unlike Karasuno.

With each passing minute, I know that Lev is not the only menace. Setting aside the wing spikers and setter, Kuroo the captain has a brilliant blocking technique. He’s roughly six or seven centimeters shorter than Lev, but that doesn’t result in a single difference as he’s quick and clever. That, combined with Yaku. Honestly, Nekoma has no hole. The only way to break through them is to shoot a very strong spike that will hurt their arms or fingers, which Karasuno doesn’t have at the moment.

“So messy,” Ukai scoffs at our team.

“So mediocre,” I add and agree at the same time.

Ukai grunts. It’s not that he despises my comment or takes it as an insult of his coaching style—he does say himself that our team is messy. It’s just that his brain must be exhausted from trying to find the easy way out to strengthen all the weaknesses we have. If he can’t come up with any solution, then neither can I. Call me useless, I don’t mind because I am.

“Watch out!!!”

As soon as I hear Yamaguchi scream, my jaw drops and my neck stiffen. The scene in front of me happens so fast. Azumane jumps to spike a ball on the left side of the court and at the same time, Hinata jumps diagonally from his right. They bump ferociously into each other, but obviously, Hinata’s the one who falls, back first. I can even hear a loud slamming sound, created by his bones and the wooden floor. It’s too fast, too fast for me to even give an immediate reaction.

Just what the hell is going on?

“Are you okay?!” After three seconds of silence, I stand up from my chair, but before I even walk a step forward, Hinata lifts his upper body and bow down deeply to apologize to Azumane.

“I’m so sorry! I was just staring at the ball! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” Hinata keeps repeating himself, although Azumane already states that he’s okay.

“Pay attention to your surroundings, idiot!!! Why do you think everyone’s calling the ball, you dumb???!!!” Ukai points his right index finger at Hinata and snaps. Kageyama follows that up with his own version of “idiot, idiot”. He doesn’t know any other profanity, but that’s not the main problem right now.

I exhale a heavy breath as I lie back down on my chair. I glance at Ukai whose expression has changed from angry to somewhat uneasy and agitated. I don’t have to ask him why because I know it myself. Everyone around me—excluded Yachi, perhaps—feel the same. The tension around us explains it very well.

Hinata’s getting more dangerous each day. By that, I mean his greed to keep improving, solely based on his wild instinct. It’s obvious that he tried to steal Azumane’s ball, the ace’s ball, which was not his. A good thing about that is how Hinata begins to develop his own initiative to move without Kageyama’s set-up. He has always been jumping anywhere he likes and Kageyama has always been the one who makes sure that he hits the toss. That was the first time he tried to hit all by himself. It could be good, but then comes the bad thing, which is the fact that Hinata doesn’t possess enough skill to support his thirst.

“Hey, Kageyama.”

I raise my eyebrows when Hinata walks to Kageyama and stops once they stand face-to-face. He clenches both of his fists and he holds his head up high, as if he faces a high-ranked member of a prestigious royal family. Well, frankly speaking, Kageyama is a king.

“What?” Kageyama responds roughly.

“The quick that goes like ‘wooosh’…” Hinata stops for a second before continuing, “I’ll stop closing my eyes.”

And everyone’s surprised. Kei and I are included. Even those from other teams—who have been listening to our conversation since the beginning—has somewhat the same reaction. We are all puzzled of what’s exactly going on with Hinata, but I believe we all have the same notion. Hinata may beg as much as he wants, but he isn’t capable of doing any other than what he has right now.

“Huh?” Kageyama scowls, enough to reveal his great disagreement of what Hinata suggested.

“I can’t keep being like this!” Hinata whimpers as he’s not a person who will give up that easily. “I can’t keep hitting quicks that are only set for me!”

“You can’t spike on your own, that’s why we’re doing it this way,” Kageyama straightaway rejects, which can also be considered as a truth. “I don’t know what’s on your mind, but I’ll listen to it later. However, if you want to do anything new right now… just know that I won’t set to a guy who I know will miss.”

I thought so already. Hinata can look sad all night, all by himself, but Kageyama’s words are righteous. It’s July. The Spring High preliminaries will begin in August, just a month after. Hinata won’t be able to learn a new quick in such a short amount of time. Again, I’ll say, it’s simply because he doesn’t have the techniques and senses required. Yes, it’s a shame, but he has to know his limit, just like I know mine, just like everybody else knows theirs.

* * *

Our match with Nekoma officially ends after they win both the first and second set. Granted, the differences are only three to four points. At least we manage to get into twenty like them, but is that satisfying? What matters the most is you win. Same thing happened when we fought Aoba Jousai last June. We went until thirty, but in the end, they won and we lost.

While I give bottles to each player with Yachi’s help, my eyes clearly register how Sugawara walks closer to Kageyama and Hinata, whispers something to them, and then drags them away to the side door of this gym. I’m positive he wants to discuss about Hinata’s request to Kageyama previously. Judging based on his kindness, I bet he will persuade Kageyama to try things off with Hinata.

Hands down, it will be futile. We all know that Kageyama is not someone who wants to be controlled that much. He’s a type of person who stands strong on his ground and words. If he says no, then it will be no. The only way he will change his mind is if someone’s able to prove that Hinata’s really worth trying for. Maybe Ukai can, maybe someone else. For sure it’s not me.

“Thank you,” Yamaguchi says as I hand him his blue water bottle. “Anyway, do you know what’s wrong with Hinata? I’m worried.”

“He wants to be able to spike without closing his eyes like all of you, but I don’t think he can.” Next, I hand another water bottle to Kei who stands exactly on Yamaguchi’s left.

“Is that really it?” Yamaguchi pitifully frowns.

“He’ll get distracted by the ball and won’t be able to hit it,” Kei answers on my behalf before chugging his bottle.

“Exactly.” I slant my head slightly, to take a good look at the gym’s door where Sugawara, Hinata, and Kageyama have just passed. I’m curious on what they’re currently talking about, but they didn’t ask me to go with them. They didn’t even ask Ukai, the coach. I don’t want to be that nosy to uninvitedly join.

“It’s just a volleyball. Take it easy,” Kei speaks after his throat is longer dry. He brushes away some droplets of water on the egde of his lips with the back of his left hand.

I smile faintly at the blonde guy who’s taller than me. “Kei, you don’t see volleyball as a career path?”

“Huh? Not really.” His answer is short, but unwavering.

My mouth curves more. “Then you don’t have any right to say ‘take it easy’ to people who are serious about this, just like how we never tell you—who are not serious—to ‘buck up a bit’. Let’s respect each other, okay?”

Kei’s expression hardens. I can see some soft lines on his forehead and how his nose scrunches up. I know him very well, so I know why he reacts that way. He didn’t expect me to repay his words with something smart. I did. Don’t mess up with me, although I don’t frequently triumph over him.

Without saying anything, Kei drops his bottle on an empty chair behind me and leaves. Both Yamaguchi and I keep locking our eyes on his every movement, until he comes closer to the main door of the gym and steps out. Some boys from Fukuroudani follow him after. Most likely they all go to the toilet.

“So Yamaguchi, what’s wrong with Kei? Why is he so demotivated? Did something dreadful happen to him? Did he lose an important match in middle school? Did he get a traumatizing coach? Let it out, please?” I bombard Yamaguchi with question after question.

Yamaguchi laughs dryly. “You’ve asked this so many times… There’s nothing wrong with him…”

“Then why? Is he just lazy?”

“No. If he were lazy, he wouldn’t have come to practice, even during holiday. Also, he’s been playing volleyball since we were in elementary school…”

“Now I’m even more confused! Seriously, why? Why won’t he tell me anything?” My voice cracks to indicate how stressful I am. “He has every attribute needed to be a prominent volleyball star! This is such a waste! Do you know how much a top-class athlete is paid per season? Hundreds of millions of yen! He can be one of them!”

“Yeah, I know…”

I keep whining miserably, “I don’t know what I should do! I really wish for him to become successful like my father in the future, but I’m not even sure if he wants that!”

“Yeah…” Yamaguchi smiles softly, somewhat lovely. “I know that very well…”

* * *

Earlier than planned, we wrap everything up at two thirty p.m. After some goodbyes and promises to see each other again in two weeks, all the bags are mounted into the bus by Karasuno’s second and third years. While I calmly walk outside of the Nekoma’s main building with Kei and Yamaguchi in front of me, my eyes can’t stop gazing at the bright sky above. Will there be any stars tonight? Maybe only one or two. The light pollution in Tokyo sure is strong.

“Hime-chan!!! Wait a minute!!!”

Just when the distance between me and the bus’ door is only less than three meters, I hear Bokuto roaring my name with his usual deafening timbre. Altogether, Kei, Yamaguchi, and I stop walking to rotate our body one hundred eighty degrees. I gulp to see Bokuto creepily dashing toward us with both hands waving up in the air, while Kuroo and Akaashi follow him close behind in peace.

Hang on.

Kuroo and Akaashi.

Oh. What a sinner I am for not being appreciative, thus hereby, let me chant my gratitude to all divinities.

I would like to thank God for displaying me the stunning scenery of two black-haired gentleman walking next to each other. I would like to thank their parents for getting married and creating them, also huge shout-out to their grandparents and great-grandparents. I would like to thank Takeda for contacting many people until we can bond once more with Nekoma and be invited here. Basically, I would like to thank life to award me with this breathtaking gift before I leave Tokyo for two weeks.

“Hime-chan! Give me your LINE ID!” Once he stands in front of me, Bokuto requests—which always sounds more like a demand.

“I don’t want to,” I swiftly refuse. Kuroo who hears that immediately laughs as loud as he can, while Akaashi expands his eyes a tad—probably shocked at my blunt rejection.

“Aw, come on! Don’t be that cold!” Bokuto pouts like a little kid. “It won’t hurt anyone!”

“No way.” I throw my head to my right, followed by my arms that wrapped each other.

“Please, I beg you! I won’t ask anything else!” Bokuto moves a step closer to me. Seriously, he becomes more and more of a pervert.

“No! I don’t want to! Go away from me!” I scoot away to hide behind Kei and Yamaguchi. Each of my palm clenches on their plain t-shirt—Kei’s blue and Yamaguchi’s white. I can’t see what’s happening beyond these two tall torsos, but I’d like to believe that Bokuto is fidgeting like a dying crab.

It’s not long until I hear Kei sigh a long breath. “Sorry, but if she doesn’t want to, then she doesn’t want to…”

“Boyfriend-kun is mad, huh?” Bokuto’s voice softens a bit. Fine. If I can use Kei as a safeguard against Bokuto, then I don’t mind calling him my boyfriend from now on.

Wait a minute.

Won’t that mean that Kuroo and Akaashi will see me as taken? No, that’s okay. That’s supposed to be okay. It’s not like I have a big crush on them or want them to be my boyfriend. I can’t date two guys at the same time.

But to think of it, who will I choose between them handsome boys? Kuroo seems to be a playboy type, but perhaps that’s only his demeanor. So far, I haven’t heard anyone mentioning him having a girlfriend or ex-girlfriend. Meanwhile, Akaashi doesn’t seem to be the type that’s in an urgent need to date someone. He’s composed and relaxed. I can totally imagine him sitting on the back of his class, reading an old Chinese literature and trying to analyze its themes, characters, or symbols.

I’m crazy.

“Bokuto-san, of course he’ll get angry… You’ve been practically harassing [L/N]-san since yesterday…” Akaashi slides in a memorable comment—which I also think is hilarious. Authorities who only hear briefly about this current situation will be able to apprehend Bokuto.

“Harassing?! I just want to know more about her! Please use another word to describe that!”

Akaashi lets out a burdensome puff of air. “Okay. You’ve been pestering her.”

“That’s better!” Bokuto snorts happily.

God. He’s so weird and hysterical that it hurts and funny at the same time.

“Anyway, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to steal anyone’s girlfriend. I just want to keep contacting Hime-chan. She’s an entertaining girl,” Bokuto proceeds to explain his purpose, but that makes him even dumber and more irrelevant.

Entertaining, eh? The last time I checked, I still haven’t become a cabaret dancer.

“This has something to do with the scholarship,” Akaashi accuses again. I just love how snarky he is.

“It doesn’t!” And of course, Bokuto objects. I’m so clueless of which one is the right one. For sure it won’t matter, regardless if I do or do not care.

“Let’s just enter the bus,” I suggest Kei and Yamaguchi while walking sideway. My hands are stretching their shirt to follow me so I can still stay covered.

“Hime-chan! Wait for a moment!”

I shake my head, albeit Bokuto won’t be able to see. In a blink of an eye, I jump into the bus and head to the back area with Kei, while Yamaguchi hops on a single seat in the middle. This is the same position as when we drove here from Miyagi. Only now, there are boxes full of souvenirs from Nekomata all over the backseat. Snacks and some shirts, if I’m not mistaken. I won’t take the latter as they’re all specifically given to the boys, thus will be too big for me or even Kiyoko and Yachi.

“How annoying,” Kei mumbles, directly after he drops his body on an empty seat on my right. He must be very careful to not let those boxes fall onto his slim body as it can shatter apart—he’ll kill me if I say this out loud.

“He’s actually nice, but yeah… too noisy and forceful.” I put my travel bag safely near my feet. It won’t fit anymore on the seat around me. Even if it were, I’d still rather locate it down there because it could become a footstool to support my tired legs.

Once my position feels decent, I gaze through the window on my left to see Bokuto speaking cheerfully to Kuroo and Akaashi. The former is the only one who responds by laughing or giving back some remarks, while the latter doesn’t seem to enjoy his fate at all. Either he’s so sick of Bokuto’s quirks or that’s just him. Even I don’t feel that sleepy when looking at Kei’s boring face.

“Kuroo-senpai seems so patient and kind,” I open up a new conversation.

“Huh? ‘Senpai’? Who gave you permission to call him that? You haven’t even talked to him. Do you really have a crush on him?”

I lift one of my eyebrows as I look back to Kei who’s been glaring cynically at me since I don’t know when. Probably right after I mentioned Kuroo? Yes, it must be that.

“What’s up with the many, many questions?” I grin coyly. “Boyfriend-kun is jealous?”

“Do you know how painful it is to be called your ‘boyfriend’ every single time?” Kei presses an enormous emphasis into his last three words.

“But you’ve never told them ‘no’.” My lips stretch wider than ever. My eyes even narrow down significantly.

“Same goes to you.”

“Yeah, I suppose so…” I’m back to my activity of enjoying the view outside of the window and now I see Hinata walking with Kenma from far. “I’d date you if you were a better blocker.”

“Do you think I’ll practice intensively harder like Hinata, just because you say that?” Kei scorns. “Moreover, I thought you had that ‘after-graduation’ rule?”

I chuckle. “I mean I’ll date you after we graduate.”

There’s no comeback to this one, but he knows well that I won’t just be all quiet and wait until he pronounces a syllable.

“Anyway, do you realize that Lev is clumsy, but he has the height, speed, and some game sense?” I randomly mention someone who’s not even near us. “With what we are right now, he can always beat us. Furthermore, he’s backed by a skillful team.”

“I notice.”

“But Kuroo-senpai is a superb blocker. Do you also notice that?” My eyes travel back to Kuroo who’s still bantering with Bokuto. “I’d be great if you could be at least as good as him.”

“Hm.” I’m not sure whether he agrees on me or he just wants to produce any sort of reply so I can shut up. I choose to believe the latter because he’s a mean creature.

“So Boyfriend-kun, why do you play volleyball?” I advance to my next question.

“Aren’t you weary of asking the same thing over and over again? It’s been months now. Move on already. Oh, probably you can’t understand because there’s a broken cog inside of your brain?” Kei nastily declines. I swear he could’ve just said “I’m sorry, but that’s a secret that I want to keep all by myself”. He really needs some manner and speech lesson. I’ll pay for it if I have the money.

“Not really.” I bring my left leg onto my right as I stare back to him—right into his golden eyes. “I only want the best for you, so I want to know if you have any problem. Just a reminder, you know that you can always talk to me if you want to.”

“…shut up. Mind your own business.”

I snigger at his insouciance. Mark my words. In the future, there’ll be a time when he’ll run to me to vent every dirty matter he has kept inside. When that happens, I’ll laugh uncontrollably before listening. Just see.


	16. State of Disarray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Why do you think people bear that kind of personality?”_
> 
> _“I think it must have something to do with their past.”_
> 
> _“Something to do with their past…”_
> 
> I can’t help it. My mind goes to someone who’s probably still sitting quietly on a train without me by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~S0308~~   
>  ~~Ushiwaka is such an alpha male. He can be awkward at times, but he’s so righteous and gentle. I just can’t. Love him too much. Ugh.~~   
>  ~~I love Tsukki too, so my strong feeling toward Ushiwaka won’t affect my approach to this story.~~
> 
>  
> 
> Hello everyone~
> 
> This chapter got pretty long… Sometimes I lost in my own mind when I write…
> 
> Important!  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“As I mentioned before, there will be a maintenance in the gym tomorrow, so there won’t be any club activities. You all haven’t had any good rest, so please enjoy it,” As soon as we drop our belongings out of the bus, Takeda announces something that mostly gains positive reaction from us. I say mostly, because Hinata seems like the only one who doesn’t approve if we’ll get two holidays this week—because Sunday is included. Unlike all of us, he’s a stamina monster.

I yawn while glancing at the round clock that’s hung high on the front wall of Karasuno’s main building. It’s five past eight p.m. I’ll arrive home in half an hour or so, then I have to take a bath, eat something, and sleep. I’m lucky enough to be able to sleep anywhere I want, but regardless that, I still miss the satisfaction given by my own bed. Futon on the floor is nothing compared to the real fluffy one.

“[F/N].” Just after I grab my own bag from the ground near my feet, Hinata calls out for me. “Kenma asks me for your LINE ID. Can I give it to him?”

I want to crack a laugh, but I’m not in the right mood to, so I choose to facepalm. It’s obviously not Kenma. I don’t know him very well and vice versa. I swear it’s Bokuto, begging Kuroo to tell Kenma to ask Hinata. He’s so easy to read. No wonder Akaashi—who I suppose is way more sentient than I—could always predict his scheme.

“No, Hinata. Say that I don’t want to give my contact to someone I don’t really know,” I reject deliberately. Hinata nods before opening his brown shoulder bag and taking his phone out of there.

“At least someone thinks that the Cursed Princess is worth to be chased.” Kei who has been standing still behind me smirk, while Yamaguchi who’s on his left only gives me a dim smile. He must be having an inner battle with his fatigue.

“At least that someone is one of best five spikers in Japan,” I play along with Kei as I comb my straight but fairly tangled hair with all of my fingers. I don’t have my usual ponytail because I had to lay my head against the bus’ seat throughout the journey back home. It wouldn’t feel pleasant.

After saying some goodbyes and thank yous to Takeda, Ukai, and the rest of my clubmates, I stride to Karasuno’s main gate. Without any commands needed, Kei and Yamaguchi follow after. It’s been a while since I go home with the latter. He would always leave first because Kei would wait for thirty to sixty minutes until I finish off my manager duty. He’s good-natured and sweet to talk to—unlike his annoying best friend—thus I always relish the time whenever he’s around. Sadly, he doesn’t ride the same train as I do with Kei.

“[L/N], please wait!” Before I even step outside of the gate, another voice halts me. It's not Hinata—he doesn’t have a mild tone like this. Altogether with Kei and Yamaguchi, I turn around to see Azumane running all by himself toward us. Does he want to go home together? No, that won’t be it. He always travels by feet because his house is near here.

“What’s wrong, Azumane-san?” I ask.

“On Tuesday… will you teach me how to do jump serve?”

I lift my eyebrows. The first feeling that slides through my heart is happiness. Azumane needs me. Is this for real? I don’t intend to exaggerate. I’m aware that this isn’t the first time I’ve ever had someone needing me for volleyball-related matter. Ever since I gave some advice to Yamaguchi about his jump float serve, many of my clubmates have come to seek for my help, but this is the first time someone specifically asks me to teach them a technique from zero. I feel like I’m a real coach now.

“Sure!” I don’t think twice to agree on spot. “But why out of nowhere? Not that it’s bad, but why?”

“Well…” He lowers his body a bit and begins to rub the back of his hair—Sawamura loathes this timid gesture of his. “Kageyama is the only one in our team who can pull up a safe jump serve. I want to learn it since I’m the ace… I also heard from Suga that you’re very good with that.”

“Ah, I understand. I’m not ‘very good’, but I’ll do my best.” I smile kindly.

“Thank you so much!” Azumane replies with a warm smile. “Take care on your way home.”

“You too.”

Azumane waves his right hand before walking back inside, probably to fetch the other third years. They’ve been best friends since the beginning of their high school life and that’s very admirable to witness. Not many people are destined to have an unbreakable bond like that.

“And why are you giggling like that?” We haven’t even continued our trip to home when Kei produces this weird look—not like his usual look isn’t weird enough.

“Because the feeling of being needed is the best,” I answer sincerely.

“Huh?” Kei confusedly frown and Yamaguchi has the same expression.

“I thought my sentence was clear enough?” I start to move my feet, just a moment before Kei positions himself on my right and Yamaguchi to his right. To think of it, this setting is default. It’s so rare for them to sandwich me. I don’t know why I use that term because it sounds too cramped, while in reality, we can always put one big person between each one of us.

“Oh… You mean the feeling of someone believing in you?” Yamaguchi guesses and I nod several times to validate his answer.

“I haven’t had that since I stopped playing volleyball last October,” I add, but apparently so, that sets the atmosphere down. Kei and Yamaguchi view me like I’m a fragile artifact they have to protect. Normally, I’ll feel disgraced because it seems like they doubt on how strong I can burst, but for now, I choose to let it go by not giving any comeback. I know they genuinely care and that’s enough for me.

* * *

Once I step out of the train station near my house, I open my phone—or as known as the gadget that I thoroughly forgot about since more than fourteen hours ago. I only checked it briefly when I woke up at six in the morning. I chatted Ushijima a simple hi, but then I had to clean myself and prepare many more things for the day. I was only left with the option to turn it off and leave it rotting inside of my bag until now. Surely, there are some chats from the beloved ace of Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball team.

 _ Ushijima _  
_I found this video about a baby panda sneezing on Youtube 4:10 PM_  
_[[Sent a link.]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FzRH3iTQPrk)  4:10 PM _  
_Why is it so popular? 4:10 PM  
_

Sometimes, I’m questioning Ushijima’s randomness. Yesterday, he told me about _Frozen_ ’s trailer, now it’s about a baby panda sneezing. The only difference is that the newest was founded by himself, not shoved to him by his friends. What’s endearing is how he always shares everything with me.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:22 PM Hello, I just got off the train_  
_ 8:22 PM I’ll open it later at home_  
_ 8:22 PM Youtube will consume too much of my data  
_

It’s not much of a shock that Ushijima straightaway replies. One, it’s almost nine p.m. He doesn’t do anything other than idling on his bed. The only time when he can’t reply will be when he has a longer practice than scheduled. Two, I know that he’s always waiting for me like a cute puppy hoping for its master to come home earlier. I could just be gone for a month and when I write something to him, he’ll be ready to greet me back. I doubt that he’ll get upset, even for the slightest. His personality is odd, precious, and adorable at the same time.

_ Ushijima _   
_Welcome back. How was the trip? 8:23 PM_

_ Me_   
_ 8:23 PM It’s fine. I’m still alive, thankfully_

_ Ushijima _   
_Why won’t you be alive? 8:23 PM_   
_Can I call you? 8:23 PM_

_ Me _   
_ 8:23 PM Is calling each other a routine now?_   
_ 8:23 PM We’ve called each other a lot lately_

_ Ushijima _   
_? 8:23 PM_   
_Why are you yelling at me? 8:24 PM  
_

I frown because I’m dumbfounded by his accusation.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:24 PM Huh? How am I supposed to yell on a chat?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_I feel the gust of you yelling at my face 8:24 PM  
_

The gust of me yelling at his face? What does that even mean? Whatever that would be, but for sure I can’t hold my laughter against Ushijima’s absurdness. I’m glad that Miyagi—and my town in particular—is small, thus there aren’t many passersby who notice how I have fun all by myself like I’m possessed or something.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:24 PM What does that even mean?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_I meant it that way? 8:24 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 8:24 PM What? Hahahaha_  
_ 8:24 PM You’re silly_  
_ 8:24 PM Just call me XD  
_

I haven’t even blinked once when I receive a phone call from Ushijima. My parents don’t even treat me this compassionate. On many occasions, I need to contact them for urgent purposes—like how I want them to pick me up because I’m all alone in a wilderness. They will tell me to wait for another fifteen minutes as some things will always be important than their own daughter. I knew they’re busy, _et cetera_ , but what if someday I’m kidnapped with a handgun pointed at my throat? Mean.

“See? I’m not yelling,” I accept Ushijima’s call and choose that sentence as my greeting. It’s been a while since I politely say “hello” to him, simply because how close we’re getting lately. That might sound like a good progress in a _shoujo_ manga, but I honestly can’t think of any other proper explanation.

“You sound tired,” Ushijima states.

“Yeah, of course. I’m super tired.” I unconsciously follow that up with a yawn, either because I’m really sleepy or I’m just triggered by Ushijima’s words. “There won’t be any club activities tomorrow, so I can rest more.”

“Why?”

“There’s a maintenance in the gym.”

“Karasuno only has one gym?”

“Two. The volleyball club uses one and the other one is used by the girls’ volleyball and boys’ basketball. I think they will maintain both of them.”

“No girls’ basketball?” I know it’s a small thing, but it’s interesting that he interrogates me about a topic other than volleyball.

“No, we don’t have that.” I smile a tad because it sure is uncommon for a high school to not have both boys and girls’ basketball team, especially when Karasuno isn’t disreputable. “How many gyms does Shiratorizawa have?”

“We have twelve gyms.”

Twelve.

If I were drinking, I would choke to death.

“Why so many?!” I shriek from the top of my lungs, but it’s still not enough to release all the mixed feelings inside of me. I’m surprised, jealous, uncertain, and many more. So my feelings are actually full of negativity, not mixed.

“Hm? What’s wrong with that?” Ushijima acts as if going to a luxurious school with twelve gyms and dorms is an everyday experience for everyone. His density is literally for everything, it’s borderline insanity.

“Ushijima-san, I guess the difference between twelve gyms and two gyms is pretty clear?” I try to elucidate. No, I try to knock some senses into his big head.

“Shiratorizawa is a powerhouse for many sports, unlike Karasuno or any other schools. Our gyms are also used for preliminaries.”

There we go again with Ushijima Wakatoshi and his forthrightness. What’s exasperating is how he always speaks the truth, thus I can’t really reciprocate. I don’t want to make fool out of myself.

“I envy you so much, but whatever. What can I do about that?” I sneer. I thought Ushijima would say that I should’ve still come to Shiratorizawa to enjoy my life to its fullest, but he doesn’t. He really has learned from his mistakes and who won’t appreciate that?

“Are you always walking home alone?” Ushijima proceeds to another question. Is it weird that I think he’s supposed to ask this a long time ago? I mean, we’ve been chatting each other every time I walk back home, but we never discuss about this one specific subject.

“I walk alone from the train station to home, but I always ride the train with my friend,” I answer in detail.

“Kiyoko-senpai?” he guesses.

“No, Kiyoko-senpai is using bus with Yachi. I’m going with Kei.”

“Kei,” Ushijima repeats.

“You remember him, right? Yesterday he—”

“I remember," Ushijima interjects hoarsely. “You seem so close with Kei.”

I chuckle lightly. “Yeah, we’re classmates and clubmates. He’s… how do you say it… Like my partner in crime?”

“Hm?” Ushijima sounds as confused as I am, albeit I’m the one telling the story.

“We’re best buddies,” I get into a better detail and I think Ushijima understands this one. “It feels like we were siblings in the previous life and now we’re mistakenly born into a different family.”

It takes me five seconds to ultimately realize my own description of my relationship with Kei and cringe hard. Is this really my real feeling toward that bastard? It’s not a new news that we adore and quarrel with each other so much, but calling him my “sibling” is just on another level. My heart even tickles by itself.

“Oh. I see.” After a small pause, Ushijima gives an ambiguous remark.

“But we fight a lot, at least once a week. He has a rotten personality and his mouth is worse than trash. He likes to needlessly mock or provoke people. Sometimes I think he has a personality disorder. Could be also that when he was a baby, he fell and hit his head,” I remind Ushijima that my story with Kei isn’t some sort of fairytale. It’s far from it.

“But you befriend him.”

“Because I’m thick-skinned,” I proclaim one of my best abilities. “He can be good. Rarely, but he can be.”

“Seems like a fun guy.”

“Ha. No.” My voice is as flat as the asphalt I’m stepping on.

“Tendou is somewhat like that.” This is the first time Ushijima has ever revealed something unique regarding his friends. We always talk about mine. People can call me selfish, but Ushijima is clearly someone who prefers to listen.

“Really?” I ask.

“Mhm. He needlessly provoke people, even those he just met, but deep down, he’s a good person. Very friendly and caring.”

“Why do you think people bear that kind of personality?”

“I think it must have something to do with their past.”  
  
“Something to do with their past…” I repeat Ushijima’s last six words verbatim.

I can’t help it. My mind goes to someone who’s probably still sitting quietly on a train without me by his side. Kei. I remember my suspicions about terrible things that might happen before he’s in high school. If Ushijima’s assumption are accurate, then mine too. I wouldn’t call the thing that happened to him or Tendou as tragedy, but it must be something grievous and hurtful until it was capable to change how they see the world now.

“Are you still there?” Ushijima reacts to my stillness.

“Yeah, I’m still here.” I squint my eyes as I look ahead of me. I’ve been ducking my head for the entire time and what I see for the first time is four tall college guys walking calmly toward me while chatting and elbowing each other. They wear matching white t-shirts and dark green sweatpants, so most likely they’re joining a sport club.

There are actually two quick paths to my house. One is what I always use. It’s a long street where many stores are still open and the lights are bright enough to cast away my fear. Just like now, I often cross students from other schools who use the same street. The other one is a five-minute shorter walk through various small valleys. The overall area is pitch-black and substantially far from humanity, in which I believe screams of murders won’t be heard. I won’t use that one, even if my whole clubmates are with me. Better safe than sorry.

“Lately you haven’t been jogging to my area anymore. Is the grand ace finally going to get fat?” I tease Ushijima. It’s addicting to do this to someone who I know won’t get offended too easily.

“We’ve been getting some practice matches, so I’ve been busy.”

“From colleges?”

“Yes. It’s always from colleges.”

I don’t know why I ask when I’ve known the answer all along. Shiratorizawa is too overpowered. I really wish Karasuno can experience a match with college students one day, at least when all the second years are still here. True, we have people from All Boys Association, but it’s mundane to keep playing with the same people over and over again. We’ll barely improve.

“[L/N]?!”

I startle when all of a sudden, one of the college guys with green sweatpants who just passed by me grasps my right arm, yanking away my phone from my ear. I raise my head to take a good look at his long face, brown eyes, and short dark brown hair. He gazes deeply at me, at the same time as when I try to buffer who he is. Once I know, I broaden my mouth in excitement.

“Fukiage?” I recall.

“Yeah, it’s me! How’s it been?!” I can tell that he’s full of bliss to meet me.

“Huh? Isn’t she…” It’s quite fast for one of Fukiage’s friends to ring a bell of who I am.

“Oh! The Cursed Princess!” His other friend exclaims.

“For real?!” And the last one does the same. “Oh, you’re right! It’s the Cursed Princess!”

“Hey, stop it! Don’t call her that!” Fukiage glares sharply at his three friends. He forces them to leave first and they do, after some teasing jokes and annoying giggles. Well, at least I know that Fukiage will just ignore those silliness.

“I thought you were college students,” I tell after all of his friends are at least five meters away from us, although sometimes they still look back to throw some unimportant smirks.

Fukiage laughs out loud. “No. I attend Datekou. Still in the volleyball team as well. How about you?”

“I’m attending Karasuno,” I answer. I actually remember that he applied to Datekou, but of course I can’t guess in an instance based on his white t-shirt and green sweatpants. Everyone could’ve worn that outfit.

Fukiage instantly makes a perfect circle with his mouth. “Seriously? Your volleyball team beat ours during Interhigh!”

“I know. I saw the match.” I smile sweetly—or maybe mysteriously, unfortunately I don’t see any mirror around here. “I’m the manager, but my senpai was the one on the bench.”

“What?! You’re a manager of a volleyball team?!” Fukiage’s reaction is precisely the same as most people who knew one or two things about my past, including my parents, my current teammates, and even someone simple-minded like Ushijima. I understand. They would’ve never thought that I would stay near volleyball again. I’ve heard that reasoning a million times for the past three months or so.

“Don’t talk as if I’m a loser.” I puff my cheeks and act as if I’m insulted, albeit in truth, I’m not.

“Hahaha. Sorry, I’m just astounded. You know, after everything… I’m so happy that you’re doing well.” He wears this kind of smile that can soothe me inside and out. If I go to the dentist, I don’t need any anesthesia if I have him.

“Thank you… Anyway, you’re not a regular? I didn’t see you anywhere during Interhigh,” I lengthen our conversation.

“I’m a regular, but I had some business during the day when we lost.” Fukiage readjusts the light grey strap of his bag that slings over his left shoulder. “Are you still contacting Goshiki?”

“Shi—um, no. I’ve lost contact with him for the past two months. I think—” I hold my tongue when I realize that I almost spill the fact that Ushijima’s the one who informed me about Goshiki. If I plainly say I heard from “someone” that Goshiki made a new LINE ID, Fukiage will absolutely be baffled on why I don’t just ask that person for the ID. The story will be too complicated and I’m scared if my lie will be able to falter me.

“You think?” Fukiage questions my unfinished sentence.

“I think he made a new LINE ID, but I’m not sure. I can’t contact him because I don’t have his phone number,” I complete my made-up tale effortlessly. As expected, I’m a gifted actress slash deceiver. Someone should just give me an Oscar.

“Eh, seriously? That’s weird. You guys were always together. I don’t have his phone number as well. Maybe he changed it too.”

I take a long, tiring breath, much to my disappointment after disappointment at Goshiki. Fukiage—being as kind as he is—knows that I feel that way, proven by how he grins and pats my head to calm me down. I don’t know why I behave like a little kid when I’m already this big. I’ll blame everything to Goshiki.

“I’ll try to find his contact, okay? Then I’ll LINE you,” Fukiage assures me as he pulls away his palm.

“Oh. Um…” I struggle a bit to find the right words. “I changed my LINE ID after graduation.”

“Oh, okay…?” I sense that Fukiage needs to be enlightened as soon as possible because he can pass out from too many sudden confusions.

“What’s your ID? I’ll add you.”

“It’s ‘fukijin’. Fuki from Fukiage and Jin from Jingo. ‘Fukijin’,” Fukiage emphasizes every syllable that comes from his tiny lips.

“Okay, noted.”

“Okay. Then… I’ll go home now, I guess?” He moves his body away, but his eyes are still riveted on my face. “It’s getting late. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be okay. Stop treating me like a weak baby. You know I’m not,” I retort.

“Hahaha. You haven’t changed much. Take care. Chat me when you can.” He ruffles my head ever so tenderly—I wish Kei would treat me this way—before catching up to his friends who are no longer in our field of vision.

I sigh. A second after that, I sigh again, but with a little touch of gloominess. I didn’t expect any of that to happen, but I’m sure I did a pretty good job to stay natural. In some way, coincidentally meeting an old friend always makes me uneasy. However, I should be grateful that I met Fukiage, not some weirdo that I might detest.

I turn on the screen of my phone to see that I’m still connecting with Ushijima. My little chit-chat with Fukiage only took approximately five minutes. I know Ushijima won’t mind to wait for such a short amount a time, but I do think that I should’ve ended the call. This is a waste of battery and data. I’m not a cheapskate. I just don’t want to misuse my parents’ money, even though it’s only for five yen or ten.

“Hello? I’m sorry this happens all the time,” I bring up to mind how people always randomly pop out every time Ushijima and I have a phone call. Technically speaking, we’ve only called each other for four times and the same trouble occurred to the last three. Can I optimistically declare that there’s seventy five percent chance of this happening again in the future?

“It’s okay.” I’m content that Ushijima is so patient.

“Next time, just end the call, specifically if I’m gone for quite a long time. I’m not using Wi-Fi at the moment, so it’s kind of a waste,” I gently remind him.

“Oh, right. Sorry about that. I’ll adapt.”

“Adapt?” I’m unsure if that’s the right word to use.

“If you’re using your mobile data, I will end the call. If you’re using Wi-Fi, I won’t end the call. Is that good?” Ushijima goes into detail and that makes me smile. He’s not only patient, but also understanding.

“Yeah, it’s all good,” I respond nicely. “And thank you.”

* * *

 _ Yachi _  
_[L/N]? 8:41 PM_  
_I don’t know how to begin this… 8:41 PM_  
_After you went home, some of us went to the clubroom 8:41 PM_  
_Hinata asked Kageyama to try on this new quick where Hinata would open his eyes 8:41 PM_  
_I was available, so I helped throwing some balls 8:42 PM_  
_But after 20 tosses or something, none worked 8:42 PM_  
_Kageyama said he doesn’t want to toss to someone who won’t score 8:42 PM_  
_But Hinata got upset, he was pulling and pushing Kageyama, begging him, yelling 8:42 PM_  
_Kageyama even grabbed and smashed Hinata onto the ground… 8:42 PM_  
_I called Tanaka-san and he punched them 8:42 PM_  
_Like that… 8:42 PM_  
_Hm… 8:43 PM_  
_I hope my story makes sense 8:43 PM_  
_I’m so worried about them since this morning 8:43 PM_  
_I hope they’re okay now 8:43 PM  
_

I dump my travel bag near the washing machine in front of the bathroom door of my house while reading words after words that I just received from Yachi. I don’t know what’s going on with the world lately, but it sure is tiring the hell out of me. I want to know more about this little drama between my two boys, but then I think it’ll be too troublesome for Yachi. My priority right now is to reassure her, so hastily, I type back some words.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:46 PM Seriously? -.-_  
_ 8:46 PM The preliminaries is in a month for God’s sake_  
_ 8:46 PM It’s okay, Yachi_  
_ 8:46 PM Those two are so stubborn and determined_  
_ 8:46 PM It’s the best if we don’t interfere that much_  
_ 8:47 PM Let’s just hope that they will be good soon_  
_8:47 PM_ _I think the 3rd years can handle this better than us  
_

Without checking whether I made a typo or no, I lock my phone as I dash to the dining room. I expect my father and mother to be there, but I only see the latter. She sits on a dining chair while watching J-Sport. This is part of her job, where she’ll recognize many more strong faces that she can scout for her university or some such. She can do this for hours—way more than my father—and that dedication is one of a few things I admire from her. No wonder she can lead her team to win the nationals for so many times.

“Hello. How was it? Did you meet some strong players? Wasn’t Fukuroudani there? And your father will be sleeping at his university until Tuesday,” my mother talks without comma and without averting her eyes away from to the TV. I walk to the refrigerator and when I pass behind her, I notice that the TV is broadcasting an All East Japan volleyball match between two universities—I can’t tell who. I remember very well that the aforementioned championship is in this month, but what my mother sees is rerun as no match will be held at nine p.m.

“Yeah, Karasuno is the weakest among the others. Bokuto from Fukuroudani was trying to have a lot of conversation with me. Most likely, he wants a scholarship from you.” I open the refrigerator’s door and take out a can of lemonade from the middle rack.

“Bokuto from Fukuroudani, huh?” My mother supports her chin with the back of her hands that intertwine each other tightly. “He’s insane.”

What now? Ushijima previously said that Bokuto is unstable, now my mother says that he’s insane. I don’t understand at all. I think I’ll find some videos about him on Youtube, although I’m sure that won’t make a difference. I mean, I’ve seen him live, so why would I need to watch his videos? All I know is that he has a solid play.

“What do you mean by insane?” I open the tab of my can before chugging everything all at once. I’m in a major need for something sweet and refreshing.

“He’s moody. He’ll annoy me, so I’m not sure if I’ll give him a scholarship.”

One point goes to Ushijima because he told me beforehand about Bokuto’s moodiness. Still, I don’t feel satisfied with all these fragmented stories. What’s up with Bokuto? My mother is a very blunt woman, so I’m not shocked when she states that Bokuto will annoy her, but why? I need a specific proof. My curiosity’s level is getting higher and higher.

“I haven’t seen his quirk, but now I can’t wait to go back to Tokyo and experience one…” I step on a silver trashcan that’s located on the left side of my refrigerator. “Also, Kaa-san… I want to ask something.”

“Yes?” My mother sounds like she’s interested, but she doesn’t even tilt her head to face me. I’m sad. I miss my father. I love how he’ll turn off his TV and listen very carefully to my every word.

“You know that Hinata doesn’t open his eyes when he spikes, right? I told you that before.” I walk closer to the dining table before dragging a chair on my mother’s northwest and resting myself there. “This morning he told us that he wants to spike with eyes open. Kageyama refused because Hinata wouldn’t be able to himself, which is true. I—everyone agrees with that. Long story short, five minutes ago Hinata and Kageyama had a fight about that and got punched by our senpai.”

“Hinata, that little orange monkey…” my mother mutters a redundant moniker. “If I were your coach, I wouldn’t choose him as a regular. You’re right, Kageyama’s very good. He’s the one who brings the best out of Hinata.”

I dilate my eyes and mouth slightly. “Did you by chance watch our videos?”

“Yeah, several days ago. Your father and I couldn’t sleep, so might as well. Only the first set of your match with Aoba Jousai during Interhigh before we got too bored.” Finally, after ten years, my mother cares enough to mute the TV with a black remote that’s placed near her right arm.

“Well… The thing is we don’t have any player who’s essential in scoring more than Hinata,” I admit in all honesty.

“Oh my God, your school sucks!”

“I know it! That’s why I want to make it better! You’re a good coach, so I need your help!” I yelp as I scrunch my nose up tight.

My mother chuckles nonchalantly, but once she’s sober enough, she contemplates my eyes. “Listen. Hinata is unpredictable. Just wait a week or two, he’ll change.”

“How could you know?” I have no idea why my voice trembles.

“I’ve lived longer than you, thus I’ve met players like him before.” My mother coughs twice before continuing, “For sure he can’t be a professional player. Set his height aside, he’s too erratic and reckless. He won’t follow my plan perfectly and I dislike that.”

I sigh because I understand that this conversation is going nowhere. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll figure something out.”

“Mhm.” Without asking whether I’m done venting everything out of my chest, my mother unmutes the TV and immerses herself under the drowsy sound of two male sports commentators.

“I almost forgot. Tomorrow there’s a maintenance in the gym, so I won’t have any club activities. When will you go home?” It’s crucial for me to make sure about this. I don’t always bring my own key because I’m afraid to lose it, but I must bring one if my parents won’t be home before four p.m. No one wants to be locked outside and be drenched in summer sweat.

“Oh? What a timing!” my mother shouts. “Want to go to my university? It can help you with coaching as well.”

Really?

I’ve been to my mother’s university a lot of times, even more than my father’s. Back then—before I had my accident—I would spend some weekends and holidays playing with male college students. They were powerful, but I was thrilled because I could learn many things from them. After my accident, it’s a no-brainer for me to stay away from those people. They would pity me and I would be mortified to realize that I’m no longer able to play alongside them like usual.

The old me would say no to this, but now I’m different. I’m no longer a volleyball player. I want to be a volleyball coach like my parents and I would love to see how my mother performs her job. I want to know how professional I must be.

“Sure,” I heartily accept the offer.

“Wait until your father hears this. He would weep.” My mother beams joyously. “I’ll pick you after school.”

There’s zero hesitation when I nod. “Okay.”

It’ll be marvelous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Fukiage is [this guy](http://haikyuu.wikia.com/wiki/Jingo_Fukiage). I needed to find someone from Datekou that’s a regular in his first year, but also a very minor character. He’s the only option.  
> 2\. I kinda like it when Ushi learns about Tsukki…? Does anyone feel what I feel? (〃▽〃)


	17. Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I growl and one big question bursts in my mind. Why would my father marry someone so inconsiderate like her? Even if she’s the last person on the planet who I have to mate to save humanity, I still wouldn’t do it. I’d rather sacrifice the future, if that means I can stay away from her. Her ability to be wicked is astounding.
> 
> “Ah! I know!” My mother grins annoyingly. “You’re just bitter because Shiratorizawa cancelled your scholarship.”
> 
> “N-no, it’s not!” I falter. “I’m just miserable because you’re the worst mother ever!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Happy reading and welcome December! ❆

* * *

The more I gaze outside the big window of my classroom, the more I’m aware that this Monday has been kind to me. In the morning, I woke up on time with a high spirit and a good hair. For breakfast, I had my favorite corn flakes with fresh whole milk, not spoiled. There hasn’t been any lesson that puts me into troubles. I’ve managed to fulfill all my food and drink cravings during lunch. And most importantly, I haven’t fought with Kei—it is pathetic to say that I do expect him to outburst because of nothing. So far, I’m content with everything. It’ll be amazing if it can last until the end of the day.

Once the last bell rings, I shove all things on my desk in my bag. I sling its strap around my right shoulder and walk behind, to Kei who’s sitting quietly on his own desk while untangling the long wire of his headphones. I don’t have any topic to say to him, so I choose to pass some time by checking on my phone. There’s one message from my mother, sent around thirty minutes ago, notifying me that she’s on the way to Karasuno and I must be ready in front of the gate. There’s another one from Ushijima, sent around three hours ago, describing me about how his day has gone so far. As always, I’ll reply to that one later.

“Is your mother already here?” Kei asks. He knows because after I arrived at school this morning, the first thing I did was tell him that my mother will pick me up and bring me to her university, thus I can’t go home together with him.

“I don’t know,” I respond as I type some words back to my mother, asking whether she has arrived or no. She doesn’t instantly read the chat, so most likely she’s still on her way here. For sure she isn’t a fool to text and drive at the same time.

“Is she coaching in Miyagi University or Miyaoshi University?” Kei apparently forgets about something I swear I’ve told him a thousand times already.

“Miyaoshi. How come you don’t remember that?” I pout lightly, eyes still stuck on my phone’s screen. There are some useless chats from some official accounts. Sometimes they bring interesting news, so I don’t really want to delete their accounts. The best option for me is to read what I want, then end the chat right after I’m done. That’s what I’m doing at the moment.

“Sorry that you talk so much about your parents until I can’t remember one thing,” Out of nowhere, Kei snaps. I almost want to reciprocate, but then I realize that it’ll just add unnecessary problem to this beautiful day. There’s no way I want to have a fight with Kei.

“Um…” I scratch the left side of my neck with my fingers, trying to find another topic to chill him out. “I know it’s still far, but are you interested in going there?”

“Isn’t it a physical education university?”

I nod. Academically, Miyaoshi University that’s located in Sendai isn’t the equivalent of The University of Tokyo. That’s evident from the programs they provide. They have sports coaching course, sports management course, sports strategy and media course, and some such—I can’t remember all, but I’m sure there aren’t a lot. They also have nutrition and healthcare courses, but both are specifically designed to be implemented for athletes, not common patients.

If someone wants to study business, literature, law, engineering, science, or something alongside that, then they can go to my father’s university, Keyaki University, which is also located in Sendai. Their academic rank is almost as good as Tohoku University, but their sport clubs are below Miyaoshi. The obvious fact is, most high school athletes who know that they will become professionals would rather attend Miyaoshi. If given the chance, people like Ushijima, Bokuto, Kageyama, or Hinata will definitely choose Miyaoshi over anything. My mother does often win against my father when it comes to scouting the same prominent athlete.

“What do you want to study? Business?” In the middle of my question, Kei’s done with all of his doing. He zips his red hand bag, stands up, puts the medium-sized item on his left shoulder, and wraps his headphones around his nape. The headphones’ cable itself is plugged perfectly into his phone that’s kept inside of his trousers’ right pocket. He really is ready to ride the train without me.

“I don’t know. _Que sera, sera_ ,” he responds as he steps sideways, out of his desk.

“What?” I frown with mouth open. Did he just cast a spell or something?

“Whatever will be, will be.”

Still in my previous expression, I buffer for a moment before I pinch a big part of his right arm. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s why… Start listening to good music.” He smirks vainly at me, which makes me give up on interrogating him all at once. Why can’t he just explain that he was quoting a song? Why can’t he behave like a normal teenager? What an obnoxious guy.

* * *

 _ Kaa-san _  
_I’m outside 3:47 PM_  
_Hurry out 3:47 PM  
_

Coincidentally enough, I receive the message when I’m already out of Karasuno’s main building with Kei walking beside me. From far, I can’t find any sign of my mother, but once I’m out of the gate and look to my left, I see her leaning on a silver sedan car that’s parked with engine off. She wears a red formal suit with a tight skirt that’s eight or ten centimeters above her knees. Her big dark brown sunglasses show a heavy demeanor of a wealthy lady—which in fact, she is. Thanks to her coaching job.

“There’s my future son-in-law with a beautiful name!” As soon as she registers my being and Kei's, she roars while taking off her glasses and hang it loosely on her head.

My first reaction? Well, this is awkward and cringe-worthy. She knows Kei’s full name. It sure is beautiful. His first name is Kei, which simply means firefly. His surname is Tsukishima, _tsuki_ means moon and _shima_ means island. I won’t lie to myself about this one subject matter. Kei has the best name among everyone I know. It’s totally normal to praise it, but the problem is, does my mother need to literally call him out as “my future son-in-law with a beautiful name”? No, she doesn’t.

My second reaction is to grunt in displeasure. Her daughter is here, but she greets someone else first. Well, in all honestly, I could see this coming. She’s always crazy over handsome and tall boys who she thinks are good enough to be her future son-in-law. I’ve always known all along that Kei is one of those candidates. Just please, next time I’ll be happier if she calls Kei with only Kei. Simple. Also, please greet me first.

“Good afternoon, Haruka-san,” Kei brings up his voice while lightly arching his upper body forward. I do notice how he calls my mother with her first name. All because she forced him to. Before Interhigh, he went to our house once on Sunday morning to study together with me and the rest is history.

“Aren’t you getting taller?” My mother steps ahead and I quite enjoy how her smooth straight black hair is blown to the opposite direction by the small summer wind between the three of us.

“Hm? Maybe,” Kei answers shortly. Luckily enough, my mother knows his personality very well—by experiencing it herself and hearing stories from me—so I don’t need to feel uncomfortable, get mad, or whatnot.

“That’s good. I believe you can grow until at least one hundred ninety-five.” My mother grins proudly, as if he’s standing in front of his own son. “Now if only you’re a better blocker.”

I immediately cover my mouth with my right palm and snort out a suppressed laughter. I glance at Kei who’s being somewhat shocked and ashamed at the same time. If my mother were someone else, I swear he would’ve come back with something derisive. Now he can’t, out of respect. I’m really happy. It’s the best feeling to witness someone knocks him down like this.

“Stop laughing.” Without any warning, Kei clutches my cheek with his right hand. His grip is pretty strong that it hurts a bit. So this is one of a few things that he dares to commit in front of the person who gave birth of me? Perhaps because he knows that she won’t really care if I splinter my jaw.

“Fay, sthowph—” My word is as unclear as Kei’s future. Am I not odd for thinking that way under this circumstance? Maybe there’s a part of my soul that pessimistically allows him to murder me.

“Say sorry first,” the guy insists.

“Sowfy—”

He smirks triumphantly, a second before his hand shifts away from me. He doesn’t forget to wiggle the same hand for a moment, as if my face is a full of virus and he doesn’t want to get contaminated by it. Feeling insulted, I punch his right arm as hard as I can. There’s a loud “bam” sound as the result of my action, but thankfully, this time he only laughs without any form of comebacks.

“Cute,” my mother remarks. I don’t want to reply with anything—especially with getting mad because she’ll think that I’m shy and I like Kei blah blah blah—so I choose to roll my eyes clockwise.

“Let’s go now, Kaa-san,” I request to my mother.

“Kei, do you want me to drive you to the train station?” Again, my mother offers Kei, but ignores me. At least say “yes” or “okay”.

“No, I’ll walk, but thank you,” Kei refuses politely. I wish he would be this sweet-tempered toward me. That’s just a wishful thinking, I know. No one has to tell me that.

“Heh. The pride of a gentleman?” my mother sneers. “But I like it. You’re very good. I like you.”

Seriously, what is she talking about?

“Then I’m going first,” Kei excuses himself. After getting a nod and a “take care” from both my mother and I, he walks away while mounting his headphones on. That’s how he just forgets about the world. I hope he could still hear a car horn, in case a vehicle strikes to his direction. I hate the way he lives his life, but I will cry for a month if he dies. Even Kageyama will.

“Ah! I forgot to say one thing to Kei!” my mother yelps, just less than thirty seconds after.

I lift both of my eyebrows, but still being cautious of what she’s going to say as it’s probably something pointless. Maybe she wanted to invite Kei to visit our house again. Maybe she would ask why we haven’t dated each other until this date. Maybe she would mention some wedding-related preparations, albeit both Kei and I are still underage. I can guess another eighty of her quirks. She’s that eccentric.

“I forgot to say thank you for always going home with my troublesome daughter,” she continues after getting no reply from me.

Okay. Still quite corny, but better than I expected.

* * *

What an exquisite view outside.

Throughout the ride from Karasuno to Miyaoshi University in Sendai, I can’t stop reminding myself of how lucky I am to spend my life in a place like Miyagi, not Tokyo. I’m not stating that Tokyo is worthless, but in my heart, Miyagi is in favor. No matter how I angle my eyes, they can always capture breathtaking sights of hills, sea, and most importantly, the orange sky in the afternoon, which later this night will turn pitch-black, glossed with stars.

I’ll be honest. I can’t imagine myself living in a metropolitan city after spending almost sixteen years surrounded by real natures. I need to at least move to Kyushu or New Zealand. If I have my own house and open its windows in the morning, I want to see a field of green or blue, not skyscrapers after skyscrapers. It’s okay to have some big buildings, but I can’t handle the despair if the entire district is full of them, like Shinjuku, Shibuya, or Ikebukuro. I’m very positive that I’ll be hospitalized due to stress in less than a week.

“Anyway, wasn’t there another friend of yours? Yamazaki? Why wasn’t he with you and Kei?” My mother’s question grabs my attention, so I avert my eyes from the beauty in front of me to her who settles on my right with both hands on the car’s wheel.

“Oh? Yamaguchi?” I confirm and get an immediate nod. “He was going to the administration room. It’s crowded there, so it could take until thirty minutes. You would be mad if I didn’t get out early.”

“Hahaha. I see.”

Deep in my mind, I thank my mother for not interrogating more. I fixate my eyes back to the front. We’ve been driving for at least forty-five minutes. We’ve been changing some small subjects, particularly about my school and club. It’s been so-so, but then I realize that right now, we’re actually in the middle of a dead neighborhood. There are tons of houses and stores, but not enough people to prove that we’re still in a human dimension, not the fog world from _Silent Hill_. As far as I can see, there are only three to four people scattering around the sidewalks and majority of them are grown-ups wearing casual outfits. Not only that, there’s only been one car passing by us. Extreme.

“Kaa-san, where are we now?” I’m sure my mother doesn’t intend to bring me to a secluded sewer and murder me there. That’s immoral for me to even imagine, but I have all the rights to know whether we’re still on the right path or no.

“Wakano,” my mother answers.

“Wakano? Isn’t Shiratorizawa in Wakano? But yeah… it’s a district in Sendai.”

“Yeah, your father and I always use this road to work. A little bit farther than the main road, but there’s no traffic jam. If I want, I can speed up to one hundred kilometers per hour and no one will get killed.”

I laugh weakly at that bad joke, but my right palm seizes the seat belt that wraps my body. One reason why. Whenever someone or I, myself mention Shiratorizawa, it’ll always remind me of Ushijima. I haven’t checked on my LINE. I’m too busy chatting with my mother and pretty much still insecure if she accidentally takes a glimpse of my phone screen. I should hurry and buy an anti-glare screen protector. Just in case.

It’s only three minutes after when I see two female pedestrians wearing Shiratorizawa’s uniform. It’s a combination of a light blue shirt, white blazer with a purple line on each side of its long collar, purple skirt, and purple bow tie. Hands down, it’s the best uniform in the whole country, not even in this prefecture anymore. They look like students from an RPG academy or something.

“Oh! Shiratorizawa’s students!” Seemingly, my mother sees what I see. “Their uniforms are so cool, but sadly, you can’t wear it.”

What the?

That hurts. I want to cry. Not because of my mother’s words, but because how pathetic my life is.

At school, I have Kei who can’t control the way he speaks. At home, I have my mother who has precisely the same poisonous trait. Just yesterday, I told Ushijima that Kei’s like my brother, but we’re born into a different family. It might be true. Alas, there’s a mishap, in which Kei should’ve been born from my mother’s womb. I wish I could use some sort of magic to switch it all. Through body swap, perhaps?

“Anyway, if we go straight down the road, we’ll see a small cinema on the left side of a four-way intersections. We just have to turn left, go forward a bit, and we’ll arrive at Shiratorizawa,” my mother informs in a great detail.

A small cinema. It must be the one Ushijima told me, the one that he said only takes ten minutes away by feet from his school. Probably it’ll only take two minutes with the speed of my mother’s car now. So Shiratorizawa is just around the corner. Will I see Ushijima? Maybe Goshiki? No, I doubt so. They must be having a practice during this time. Even if I do, it’s not like I can lower my window and greet them out loud. That’s uncalled for.

“We’re actually going to Shiratorizawa.”

I see. We’re going to Shiratorizawa.

Wait a moment.

I blink rapidly several times. Then in a slow motion that seems like eternity, I glance at my mother who doesn’t lose her focus of the road onward. Did I hear it right? No, no, no. I think I’m just too sleepy because of the calming scenery around me. For so many times, I almost fell into a deep slumber. It must be it, right? Right?

“…come again?” I ask carefully.

“We’re not going to my university. I was lying. We’re going to Shiratorizawa.”

I broaden my eyes and my heart is the one that has to suffer. It skips a beat, then another beat, then it pumps too fast. Am I nervous? No, why would I be nervous? It’s not like I’ll die if I go to Shiratorizawa. Maybe I will die. Maybe I am nervous. Maybe slightly. I have no idea. I’m still trying to absorb everything. I can’t think. What’s exactly going on?

And I need exactly three additional seconds to snap.

“Why are we going to Shiratorizawa???!!!” I scream like I’m in the middle of the creepiest haunted house Japan has ever created. I swear people from the outside can hear me, even if there’s a metalcore music playing—in this case, there isn’t.

“Scouting.” My mother’s respond is so light, as if scamming me is something proper to do. Okay, I’m her own flesh and blood, but that doesn’t give her any rights to drag me somewhere without my consent. I’m not a baby anymore. I can decide everything by my own. What have I done to deserve all of these?

“Why did you—then why are you lying to me?! What is this?! Don’t bring me there! I beg you!” I struggle to release my seat belt, although I should understand that this is futile. What comes after? What can I do when my mother doesn’t want to stop the car? Take over the wheel and crash ourselves into a wall? Open the door and simply jump? Open the window and whine for help?

Perceiving my wild reaction, my mother laughs nonchalantly. “What’s wrong with you? Nervous meeting Wakatoshi?”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with meeting anyone!” I shrug away every accusation that my mother’s pondering about. I mean it. I don’t care about meeting Ushijima or anyone. I’m not embarrassed or scared. If I do, then I wouldn’t even go to Tokyo where there’s a sea of volleyball players that I don’t even know about. I just don’t want to go to Shiratorizawa.

“Then what? Calm down. Don’t be that dramatic.”

“This has nothing to do with being dramatic either! Why didn’t you tell me that you’re going to bring me to Shiratorizawa?! Liar! You’re being impolite!” I keep bewailing and it will never stop.

“Because you would say no.”

“Why are you bringing me with you?! You don’t have to!” Again, I throw another complaint.

“You have a free time, so why not? Don’t you miss your best friend? Don’t you want to see the strongest team in Miyagi playing live? You said you want to be a coach. This is a free reconnaissance for Karasuno. Be grateful,” And again, my mother answers ignorantly.

“I could just watch their videos!”

“Oh, shut up!”

I growl and one big question bursts in my mind. Why would my father marry someone so inconsiderate like her? Even if she’s the last person on the planet who I have to mate to save humanity, I still wouldn’t do it. I’d rather sacrifice the future, if that means I can stay away from her. Her ability to be wicked is astounding.

“Ah! I know!” My mother grins annoyingly. “You’re just bitter because Shiratorizawa cancelled your scholarship.”

“N-no, it’s not!” I falter. “I’m just miserable because you’re the worst mother ever!”

“That’s the cinema!” My mother pays no attention to me. I mark a cinema that’s dominated by maroon as she spins her wheel to the left. The more we drive forward, the more I see boys and girls wearing their highly-sophisticated Shiratorizawa’s uniforms. I know, we’re only a step away from Shiratorizawa’s gate.

I duck my head as I exhale a long breath. I’m not pleased at all, but I can’t stay away from this, can I? I just need to give up, don’t I? I fail to understand what my mother wants from me. She’s treating me like I’m a toy, where she can haul me everywhere, like she’s the one who owns my life wholly. I’ll forgive her, but I’ll never forget about this.

* * *

Is Shiratorizawa really a school located in the same area as Karasuno? Is it really a school located in a small town by the sea and hills?

After granted a pass from two male parking attendants, my mother parks her car in a teachers’ special parking lot. I step out before her, just to be greeted by such gigantic and modern buildings, painted mostly in orange, which looks absolutely stunning under Miyagi’s afternoon sky. I’ve only been to the middle school division of Shiratorizawa and it’s not located near here. Still in Sendai, but let's say round about fifteen minutes away to the north with car. I have zero idea about how the high school will look like. True, Kageyama and Hinata told me beforehand, but seeing it with my own eyes gives a different vibration to it. I’m still surprised—and very jealous. Come on, who wouldn’t?

As I follow my mother’s lead close behind, I notice enormous amounts of road signs, either to genuinely help people to not get lost or plainly to show off. Those two are actually at the same level or arrogance, but I prefer to believe the latter.

Left to the main running field and indoor swimming pools. Pools? Plural? So it must be at least two, when Karasuno only has one small outdoor pool. I click my tongue softly enough so my mother won’t discern.

Right to gymnasium one, two, and three. Fine. I don’t have any strong reaction to that because Ushijima has told me about the twelve gyms they have. If he hadn’t, then I would’ve drolled in resentment.

Left to the outdoor archery range and an outdoor pool. Just how many swimming pools do they need? I’m pretty sure Shiratorizawa’s students aren’t double the size of Karasuno’s because it’s very hard to get accepted unless through a sport scholarship and not everyone will get one. Their students are maybe only twenty percent more. So do they really need to have abundant facilities like this one? I believe no. Please tell me it’s no.

“The male’s volleyball team here has fifty or sixty members, so the regulars and substitutes play privately in one gym while the rest plays in another gym,” my mother explains and I only sigh. I don’t have anything to say back, so I opt to continue inspecting around to discover yet another degrading sign. Right to the golf practice area and fitness center. Move forward to the equestrian center.

Oh, I see. That’s super cool. I turn my face away, only to turn it back again to scrutinize the same damn sign. Alongside that, I feel some serious dents formed themselves in my forehead.

Golf practice area? Fitness center? Equestrian center? I’ve had chaos inside of me for the past five minutes, but now it’s getting too much to handle. What the hell with this school? No. More like, is this even still considered as a school? It’s similar to a resort in Hawaii. Maybe if I check more, they also have a ski practice area, snowboard practice area, bungee jumping area, rock climbing area, fishing area, ballet area, break dance area, literally countless of luxurious areas.

“And what now?! They have their own club buses?! Even my middle school doesn’t have one!” I squeal when I spot three buses parked beautifully beside a huge cafeteria with some students idling around it. Two buses have “Shiratorizawa VBC” stamped on their body, which I believe stands for Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club. The other one has “Shiratorizawa BBC” which stands for Shiratorizawa Basketball Club. It’s infuriating to compare that to Karasuno who has to seek for donations. _The Prince and the Pauper_ , eh?

“And you said you’re not bitter,” my mother scoffs without looking at me.

I bite my tongue in defeat. Fine. I admit it. I’m sorry to have lied previously, but I am bitter.

I really am bitter.

I can’t be even more bitter than this. If my mental weren’t strong enough, I would’ve dropped my knee onto the ground and bawled for an hour. With rolling and yelling. I should’ve brought Kageyama with me because he too got rejected by Shiratorizawa. Well, at least he got that because he didn’t nail his test. I got a scholarship. Let me repeat that three more times. I got a scholarship. I got a scholarship. I got a scholarship.

But these bastards took it away from me.

“That’s the building for the regulars.” My mother points at a gym on her northeast. From far, it looks bigger than the one Nekoma has. In all likelihood, it can fit three to four nets at the same time, where Nekoma’s can only fit two. The total of Shiratorizawa’s regulars and substitutes won’t be more than fifteen, so it’s more than enough for them to sharpen their own skill without having to trip over anyone. One thing that I adore about the exterior is how the upper part of the gym is painted with orange, while the bottom part is a simple pale brown. It’s simple, but elegant.

“Kaa-san.” I pull my mother’s lower back hem, but that doesn’t make her stop walking until my fingers go off by themselves. “I will wait outside, okay? Maybe in the cafeteria.”

“Tsk. Can you please stop being so childish?!” Finally—not that I’m longing for it—my mother looks over her shoulder and scowl, like she wants to bulldoze my life. “You’re so bitter because of nothing! Maybe the accident last October damaged your brain and made you into an idiot or something?!  Don’t be so full of yourself! You’re acting like these people care so much about you, when in fact they don’t even think about you, not even once! Know your place, you’re not an ace anymore! No one’s going to see you as a volleyball star you used to be! Even if they’re being nice to you, it’s because they feel bad! Please calm down!”

“Aaaaaahhhhhh!!! Why don’t you have any tact when you speak to me?!” I dilate my eyes and howl in agony. How could she say all of those hurtful words with such an indifference? What kind of mother is she? Honestly, I’d prefer to be with Kei. He’s unkind, but he would never wrong me like this.

And then there’s a pang in my chest that I know won’t be gone any time soon. All gratitude to my mother.

* * *

I’m only two meters away from the gym’s door that’s wide open and of course, I can already hear mingling noises coming from inside. People are calling out each other’s name, shouting praises, reacting to whistles, _et cetera_. As I’ve stated prior to this, I don’t see the great benefit of watching Shiratorizawa play live because I can just search for their videos on the internet or ask the recording from people. But watching them exercise is another thing. It’s similar to comparing watching a movie to watching the daily life of the actors. In the end of the day, the latter can still teach me one or two things that make them who they are.

“Okay. I don’t care what you’re thinking right now, but please…” My mother halts her feet and rotate her body around to face me. “Act nor—oh, my? What a timing?”

I stare at my mother in confusion, but before I have a chance to ask, she smiles sweetly and waves her right hand at someone behind me. Quickly, my body moves on its own as it wants to see what my mother sees. I was expecting Ushijima—simply because he’s always everywhere—but what’s displayed in front of me is two boys walking toward me with their Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team’s official jersey and jacket. The one that’s only one or two centimeters taller has a black bowl-cut hairstyle, while the other one has a somewhat messy light brown hair with black tips.

“Ah! Goshiki Tsutomu!” I focus myself on the black-haired guy. It’s not a secret anymore that I’ve had a rough time because of my mother, but looking at his face somehow lifts everything up. I feel so light, I can just snorkel to heaven.

That’s a weird expression, but whatever.

“See! I knew it was you since the beginning!” Goshiki’s smile isn’t as wide as mine, but it’s still a smile. That’s all I need to repel any negativity around me—specifically, from my mother. How many times do I have to mention that I loathe my mother so much?

“What do you mean since the beginning?” I pop a question as I walk closer to him.

“I just came back from the cafeteria, then I saw you and Haruka-san walking from the parking lot,” Goshiki replies.

“Really?” My hand begins to move closer to his straight fringe. “So… where have you been for the past two months? But what the hell with this sharp haircut? You look so round like a panda. ”

“U-ugh! Stop it! Why is everyone mocking me?!” Goshiki slaps my hand away. His face turns red. Is he flustered because of my words? I didn’t even mean to tease him. I was just stating a fact that he looks like a panda.

But then I hear his friend giggle cutely, so I glance at him. Truth be told, at first, he seemed frightening. He has this kind of distinctive scowl which will scare those who don’t really know him. Another example of that is Kageyama. People will have so many skepticism whenever he’s around. Is he mad? Why is he staring at us that way? Does he want to poo but there’s no toilet available? Stuff like that.

“See? You’re all happy now, although you didn’t want to come here first,” For no reason, my mother mocks me. Can she just leave me alone?

“You said we were going to your university, not Shiratorizawa!” I defend myself, but also telling the truth to both Goshiki and his friend. Once I’m inside, I’ll tell the same thing to everyone. I don’t want my mother portray me as a villain in this story, which I know she will. I’m always at fault.

“Whatever, Bitter. I’m going inside.” And just like that, my mother steps in the gym and heads off to the left. That was the first time she ever called me with a new nickname "bitter". I’m so flattered, I’ll thank her later.

“Haruka-san is still…” Goshiki’s words make me shift myself back to him.

“Doing everything as she pleases!” I finish the sentence.

Goshiki bobs his head in agreement.

“Anyway, you’re not that shocked to see us. Do you know that we’re coming?” I keep the conversation going. It’s summer, but the weather is cool because it’s in the afternoon. Hence, I don’t think Goshiki and his friend mind if we talk for another minute out here.

“Yes, half an hour ago our coach told us that your mother will come, but we don’t know that you’ll also come,” Goshiki’s friend answers on both of their behalf.

“I see… and we haven’t introduced each other! I’m [L/N] [F/N]!” I press my right palm on my chest. It’s a minimalist gesture to present myself as his new acquaintance.

“Yes, nice to meet you. I’m Semi Eita.” As soon as he says his name, my mouth curves into a perfect “o”. So he’s Semi, one of Ushijima’s close friends. I thought he was a first year, but I believe everyone would think the same if they saw him walk together with Goshiki, who’s a first year. Given that they didn’t know him.

And I sense a very nice vibe about him. I’m pretty sure he knows who I am, but he doesn’t go full-on by saying “I know who you are, the Cursed Princess” and laugh. He’s nothing like Bokuto. If I may say, he’s akin to Akaashi or Kuroo. They have an unwelcoming outer appearance, but are actually very polite and understanding. People like them are so precious, I appreciate them the most, and they shouldn’t be taken as granted. Instead, they should be protected at any cost.

“Semi, Goshiki, come in.”

I gasp.

I have no idea why I’m still startled upon hearing this sudden deep voice from behind. I should’ve gotten used to it. I heard this slightly hoarse timbre last night and the night before. But what power do I have? Being on the phone and facing each other in flesh aren’t the same thing.

“Ushijima-san! Sorry!” Goshiki apologizes before passing by me, followed by Semi.

I don’t want to act like a freak, so I turn around and in this very moment, my eyes meet with Ushijima’s olive irises. It’s been awhile, isn’t it? Three weeks? A month? But I’m not as intimidated as before. Maybe because I know more about him? About how cute and miserable he can be?

Yes, that must be it. I mean, look at the way he stands on the doorway with his head only a bit shorter from its upmost casing. Regardless the way he stares so deeply at me, he’s just a huggable big teddy bear. So kind-hearted as well.

“Come here.” Ushijima beckons his right hand to me. I can’t decline that friendly invitation, so I move my feet forward. There are three stairs which I have to step in, with the fourth one being the one that’s connected to the actual gym’s floor. Ushijima stands on the fourth one, while I stand on the second one. It’s still very close. We can clearly take a better look at each other.

“Ushijima-san, don’t tell anyone that we’ve been contacting each other lately,” I warn him with a whisper, but loud enough for him to memorize.

“I’m not planning to, but your mother might be talking about the party,” he murmurs back.

“That’s okay. Just not the chat and phone call part. No one needs to know that except us.”

Ushijima nods solemnly. Without reacting back, I enter the gym before he does. As I walk closer to my mother who’s currently talking to an old coach on a sideline, I keep telling myself to stay composed. Everything will be under control. Everything will be okay. The day will end in peace.


	18. People Around Him pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need to buffer.
> 
> What exactly is going on? Why do I feel double-bad now? I know I exaggerated a bit, but did I treat Ushijima that poorly until Semi and Tendou encourage me to apologize?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello~
> 
> Sorry if this chapter is almost 1/3 shorter than the previous one. I had to cut the ending in the right moment and I didn't want to write unimportant fillers. :(
> 
> Important!  
> \- Don't read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> Happy reading!

* * *

My mother introduces me to Shiratorizawa’s head coach, named Washijou Tanji. He’s seventy-one years old with a thick straight white hair that’s slicked back and he’s slightly shorter than Hinata but taller than Nishinoya. Probably one hundred one or one hundred two centimeters. My first impression is that he looks like a grumpy old man, supported by how sharp and bushy his black eyebrows are shaped. Although in the end of the day, it’s never alright to judge someone only based on their outer appearance.

Other than him, there’s another young coach named Saitou Akira, but he’s not here as he’s busy honing those who don’t make the cut into becoming a regular or substitute in the second gym, which is located near the teacher’s parking lot. The gym where I stand right now is number six. It’s hard to believe that all of these spectacular buildings only take a little amount of Shiratorizawa’s lot. I can’t wait to see every corner of it. Maybe it’s that gigantic, to the point where I’ll need twenty-four hours to finish.

After being told by my mother to put down my shoulder bag on the floor, I’m finally able to take a in-depth look of the entire gym. My assumption was right. This gym can handle up to four nets at the same time, but they only set three at the moment. I see Ushijima talking to Goshiki and Semi near the right net—I suppose that’s the reason why he called them. I see three players practicing their jump serves on the middle net. They’re strong, but I think Kageyama is a bit better. Then the left net—the one that’s in front of me—is empty.

“Where are the others?” my mother questions Washijou something that’s been wandering in my mind too. I can only see six players. I’m sure there should at least be ten, including those who might be sick or absent.

“Some are having lunch, most are resting in the dorm. We’ll have a practice match with Iwanuma University at six,” Washijou quickly answers, which unravels why everyone’s using their official jersey, not a simple training t-shirt and shorts.

“You let them rest? That’s not like you, Sensei. Your training program is stricter than mine,” my mother sneers and I’m surprised to find Washijou grin at her impoliteness. I have no clue about how strong their relationship is, but he appears to know a lot about her absurd personality.

“They’ve been practicing a lot lately. Resting for an hour won’t hurt anyone.”

“What about them?” I join their small chat. My right thumb points to the area behind my back, specifying Ushijima and the gang who are fully wide awake.

Washijou looks at the direction before averting back to my eyes. “They are those who can’t sleep when the sun is still out.”

“Ah, I see.” I bob my head once. I know Ushijima is a light sleeper because he told me himself, but I don’t know if Goshiki is also one of them. I remember he wasn’t, but sleeping habit can periodically change. When I was younger, I couldn’t sleep that much. Now, I can sleep three seconds after I close my eyes.

“Okay. I’m going to see their practice match,” my mother suddenly decides and who would’ve thought that it would become my nightmare? I would.

If it begins at six p.m., then minimum the practice match will end at eight. That means, I too have to be here until that late. Add that with the one hour ride to home, I’ll be back at nine. That’s so annoying, plus the fact that I don’t know what I should do to kill the time. Sure, I can converse with some people, but then they have to do their own stuff and leave me behind.

“Kaa-san, can I go home first? It’s still five p.m. now. It’ll boring to be here for that long, doing nothing,” I beg, but surely, my mother glares cynically at me. I want to explain all the valid reasons I have, but I know how ignorant she can be. The best move for preventing my heart from getting stabbed is to mute myself.

“Haruka… you’re not treating your girl properly.” Washijou sniggers at my mother before holding his head up at me—because I’m more than five centimeters taller than him. “I heard from Tsutomu that you’re a manager in Karasuno. Maybe you can help us preparing drinks and towels? We don’t have a manager to do that.”

What?

One, that’s not my concern if this team doesn’t have a manager. There are more than five dozen pair of hands to handle those small jobs, so why do you need a manager from other school to do it? Two, Washijou’s words don’t ease my burden at all. He should’ve told my mother to let me go after saying that she’s not treating me right. As soon as I turn my body away from him, I’ll roll my eyes as hard as I can.

“And go spend some time with Tsutomu or Wakatoshi. You know them,” my mother suggests and she yells out a name that I don’t prefer to spend time with, “Wakatoshi! Come here!”

I softly click my tongue. I’d be happier if she would call Goshiki. Maybe I should just head to him, but then I’ll make Ushijima sad. I don’t know why I like to complicate myself too much when it comes to the big ace. Perhaps I’m a bit traumatized for ignoring him without any understandable reason.

“Yes?” That doesn’t take long at all for Ushijima to dash toward my mother and stand right beside her. Twice or thrice or more, he steals some glances at me and the feeling every time our eyes meet is indescribable. I can only say that it tingles my head, down to the very tip of my toes.

“I’m going to stay here until your practice match is over, so please make a use of this girl in the meantime. Tell her to prepare drinks and towels or something.” My mother points her right index finger at my face. Again, Ushijima takes a good look of me, but this time is longer than before. That makes me duck my head, just because I’ve had enough of us locking our eyes that attentively.

“Okay. Come with me,” Ushijima says—which sounds more like a command from a marshal, as an effect of his stoic face and timbre. He brings me back to Goshiki and Semi who are still speaking to each other. The closer I get to them, the more I’m able to overhear their conversation. It’s about a strategy to beat the near-perfect libero from Iwanuma University. Of course. These people are volleyball nerds, thus their topic won’t be too far from it.

“What’s wrong?” Semi gazes at me and Ushijima simultaneously. Goshiki who stands on his left does the same.

“Haruka-san will be watching our practice match, so she told [L/N] to help us with preparing drinks or towels,” Ushijima explains in detail. I don’t know since when he calls my mother with only her first name, but maybe she forced him when we met in the party. It’s better like this. I can’t imagine him calling both my mother and me with our last name. It’ll be unnecessarily chaotic.

“Oh yeah, it’ll be boring if you don’t do anything.” Semi smiles gently at me. I’m glad that he understands without the need to elaborate my real feeling five times. We can be best friends forever.

Aside from that, is it just me or is he really an eye candy? I can just enjoy his face for a moment and my saddest day will come to an end. It’s better than yoga or a hot spring.

Well, actually, in all honesty, these three boys who line in front of me are all breathtaking. Semi has a delicate face that is such a gift to this corrupted world. Goshiki has a super cute image that can cure any disease. Ushijima is an alpha male that can dominate everything he desires. In conclusion, only dumb, envious, and blind people who will perceive them as less than perfect. Now I can’t wait to see the rest of the team to find more beauty.

“If it’s okay, you can fill our bottles from the sink outside,” Ushijima finally offers me to do something. I instantly accept by shaking my head up and down several times. It’s not that I’m happy doing it. I’m just too prideful to fall asleep in the middle of the gym from an extreme boredom.

“I’ll help you carry the holders,” Semi kindly volunteers himself. “Come.”

“Wait, Semi-san.” I halt him with a single sentence and my eyes travel to Goshiki who’s been quiet for the past few minutes. “Shiki-chan, you go with me.”

“Shiki-chan?” Semi raises his pitch. Even Ushijima wears a somewhat surprised expression.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! According to her, ‘Tsutomu’ is too hard to pronounce and ‘Goshiki’ is too common! Please don’t call me that way as well!” Goshiki frantically shouts an explanation mixed with a warning that’s actually uncalled for. I don’t think people like Ushijima and Semi care that much about a nickname. Even if they do, ‘Shiki-chan’ is a decent nickname that won’t cause any problem. Unlike mine.

In short, Goshiki is troubling himself because of nothing and I feel thousands of butterflies in my stomach, in a good way. I let that expression out with a small chuckle.

“What are you worrying about? Like I’ll allow someone else to call you that,” I state as I clutch his left arm and drag him to the area near the main entrance of the gym, where my eyes capture the sight of three black bottle holders, each one of them contains six big blue bottles. I hear Goshiki mumbling some irrelevant complaints behind my back, but I don’t care. I’ll carry one and I’ll still tell him to carry the other two. He won’t refuse my request.

* * *

And he doesn’t refuse.

With cheeks puffed up adorably like baked marshmallows, Goshiki leads me to the north door of the gym. We only need ten additional steps onward to reach two big sinks with four taps—eight in total. I honestly thought that Shiratorizawa’s sinks would be built in marbles, but it’s just a simple stone, exactly like what Karasuno and other schools have. At last, Shiratorizawa has something relatable to a normal high schooler. I can’t feel satisfied, though. I need to check their toilets because maybe they’ll akin to a five-star hotel’s.

Almost in sync, Goshiki and I drop our bottle holders on the ground. I was already planning to ask him to help me filling these bottles—in case he’d run back to the gym—but he instinctively does so. Earlier than me, he takes one bottle from the holder with his left hand, opens the lid, positions it under the tap, and fills it fast. It’s just a little gesture, but I’m beyond content.

“So, Shiki-chan…” While doing the same thing as him, I initiate a new conversation. “Is it just my feeling or it’s true that you kind of ignore me?”

“Huh? No. Why would I ignore you?” I detect a serious face given by the guy who stands on my right, but luckily, I’m not that naive. I still doubt the truth spoken by him.

“We haven’t contacted each other for two months. Why is that? And usually, you’d get all excited for seeing me after this long. I’m sure you remember that we haven’t met each other since the graduation ceremony last March.” As soon as I’m done with my first bottle, I insert it back to the holder and unmount another one to repeat the same process.

“Two months ago, I bought a new phone and made a new LINE account,” he quickly responds. “Didn’t you do the same thing last March?”

I take a deep breath before I reciprocate, “Yes, but the difference is, I did add you back straightaway. Why didn’t you do the same? I’m sure you remember my ID because we came up with it together.”

There’s a moment of stillness. The only melody to surround us is the dripping sound of water and how hollow it becomes once it touches the bottom of the blue bottle in our hand. Seems like I switch on the right button, but it makes me anxious, rather than proud.

“I know I didn’t—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t you dare to think that I hate you or whatnot! I’ll never hate you! You should know that!” Goshiki doesn’t allow me to finish. His dark brown eyes dilated and I’m petrified if they’ll come out of the sockets.

“Then?” Yet, I still demand an explanation. I’m not a type of person who’ll let an unconcluded case slip away that easily. I need to know everything, specifically when it has something to do with me. If I don’t, then it will literally haunt my dreams.

“I was too busy with school and club.” Goshiki’s voice gets more stable than before. “I’m trying to be the next ace of Shiratorizawa.”

“The next a—oh! You mean after Ushijima-san?” I can’t help but to show him a big laugh, in hope he’ll be motivated. “Good luck.”

Unexpectedly, he frowns. “…what?”

“Hm? What?” I don’t know what else to say than to repeat after his word.

“That was…” Goshiki shifts back his focus on the water bottle in his left hand as he starts to fill it again under the tap. “You sounded exactly like Ushijima-san.”

“What do you mean?” I’m genuinely puzzled. Ushijima is nothing like me. I’m loud and passionate. Ushijima is calm and collected. We’re like _yin_ and _yang_. The only similar attribute that I can think of is how blunt we can be, with Ushijima being worse than I, but I’m uncertain if that’s what Goshiki meant.

“Every time I tell him that I will be the next ace, a better one than him, he’ll always wish me a good luck. A sincere good luck. And that’s infuriating,” Goshiki heavily uses emphasis on his last two sentences.

“Hahaha. Ushijima-san is so—” I stop moving my lips as I realize that I almost spill the fact that I know Ushijima—as known as a secret that I try to hide with all my might. I wanted to say that Ushijima is so kind, but there’s a big chance Goshiki would ask on how could I say that because I “just met” him ten minutes ago. I don’t know why I keep doing this almost-mistake over and over again.

“So?” Obviously, Goshiki needs me to complete my words.

“He seems so kind, despite his intimidating aura. I thought he was typical someone who painfully tried so hard to be tough. I thought he wouldn’t be able to talk normally to people he just met, but he can.” I smile sweetly. From the reflection on Goshiki’s eyes, I realize how natural my façade is. Amazing. What a great actress I could become one day.

“Yeah, he’s my rival, but I’ll give it that he’s a great person. Caring, strong, smart, and many more. There’s an evident reason why he got chosen as a captain, not just because he’s a great volleyball player.” Goshiki responds my smile with a wider one before he converts to his usual  _tsundere_ -self as he realized that he just praised his so-called rival. “B-but I will defeat him one day! I’ll become a better ace than anyone in this country!”

I giggle. I don’t vocalize more words and opt to continue my duty of filling every bottle left. I act this way because deep down in my heart, I feel guilty. I was suspecting Goshiki for maybe lying to me, but I’m also lying to him. I’m still curious whether he told me the truth or no, but I don’t even look at my fault in the mirror. It’s like I want people to give me something without wanting to give back. The world doesn’t work like that, I know it very well.

And I know that this is very selfish. I am very selfish.

“Oh, anyway, yesterday I met Fukiage near my house,” I hop into another topic. “You remember there’s a store selling this yummy pork steamed bun? I met him near there. He was walking with some of his clubmates.”

“Really?” Goshiki sounds excited and that’s predicted. I’d be weird if he weren’t.

“Really.” I grab my fourth bottle from the holder. “He was so happy to see me and he also asked about you. I explained that I haven’t contacted you for two months and blah blah blah. Seriously, he’s so nice. Majority of boys are so nice to me.”

“Ho…” Goshiki forms a circle with his lips. “I’ll take it as you haven’t found any female friends?”

“What are you talking about? Absolutely not,” I scoff with a forced laugh. “Shiki-chan, you know that I don’t befriend girls. Do we need to go through that all over again?”

Goshiki takes a brief look at my stern face before he unshakably jiggles his head from side to side. “No.”

* * *

Less than ten minutes have passed since I left the gym. When I get back with a heavy bottle holder carried by my right hand, I find another guy surrounding Ushijima—besides Semi. He’s lanky with a spiky hair that’s as red as flaming fire. He has big eyes and even a bigger smile. At the first glance, he seems taller than Ushijima, but I believe it’s because his hairstyle adds at least two centimeters to his overall height.

“Just leave it down here,” Goshiki—who stands on my left—whispers. Before I do what he tells me to, he already guides me through by putting down the two bottle holders in his hands near the gym’s door.

“Will the chairs be placed on this side?” I ask as I put down mine, right beside his.

“Yes,” Goshiki confirms. “We always sit on this side because it’s easier to fill the bottles when they’re empty.”

“I see.” I promptly nod.

“Oh! Look at that! Haruka-chan brought Hime-chan?!” I shudder when a very familiar voice shrieks out loud. I rotate my upper body to see the red-haired guy waving his right hand up in the air at me. If I would close my eyes and forget about the fact that I’m surrounded by Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball team, then I would think that it’s Bokuto. He’s the first person who uses a prestigious nickname that is “Hime-chan”, so my brain will always naturally picture him.

“Tendou, don’t call her that,” Ushijima shushes the guy. I notice Semi also squints his eyes, much to his disappointment at his friend’s behavior. Perhaps that the reason. No, he’s a good guy, so I’m pretty sure that’s the sole reason of his doing.

I stare straight at the person named Tendou as I step closer to him with Goshiki. That’s why his voice immediately rings a bell. How could I forget about him? First of all, he’s one of a few names Ushijima has mentioned some time ago. Second, the memory of how effortlessly he barged into Ushijima’s room and threw so many questions about me will always be patently tattooed on my brain. I wonder how he would react if he knew that the girl in the phone call was me?

Once I stand right in front of Tendou, I grin. “Ah… Wherever I go, people will always call me that…”

“Uh, sorry… But is that okay for me to call you that?” Tendou requests a funny permission. I say it’s funny because he apologized, but then still asking whether he can uses the moniker or no. It’s like he eats something he mustn’t eat and when he gets caught, he’ll apologize but asks if he can eat it again.

“Well… it’s okay. You’re not the first one,” I permit him without thinking long enough.

“Oh! Someone called you that before?” Tendou expanded his eyes a tad.

“Yeah, last Saturday I went to Tokyo for a training camp and this guy named Bokuto called me that.”

“Bokuto from Fukuroudani?” Semi apparently knows that noisy and overly friendly owl. “Karasuno went to a training camp with a powerhouse like them? That’s lucky.”

“Hm, I suppose. Our _sensei_ worked so hard for that, so all thanks to him,” I mutter. If Hinata or Kageyama were to hear Semi’s comment, they would’ve been so enraged, but sadly enough, that’s the fact. Karasuno isn’t a powerhouse. It’s still way below Nekoma’s level, in which Nekoma’s still below Fukuroudani’s. Schools like Shiratorizawa and Aoba Jousai are the ones who deserve the training camp more.

“Oh, right! Goshiki told us that you attend Karasuno! Your uniform is cute!” Tendou praises as his eyes contemplate my uniform repeatedly from up to down and left to right.

The complete female uniform of Karasuno consists of a plain white shirt, topped by a cream sweater vest and a black blazer, then beautified by a red ribbon around the collar. For the bottom part, it’s a simple and monotone short grey skirt. Personally, I think all of those are too much of a work, thus whenever it’s not a must—like today—I’ll always wear only the shirt, the ribbon, and the skirt.

“Thank you, but it’s not as good as Shiratorizawa’s uniform,” I respond before chuckling faintly. My right hand flies up to swipe away some strands of fringes on each side of my temples.

“No! It’s super cute! I like soft color like this one!” Tendou is so expressive that his face changes from normal to being happy to being perplexed in a second. “Don’t you agree that it’s cute, Wakatoshi?”

“Mhm.” Ushijima—who, as always, has been staring at me like I’m his queen bee—rocks his head down earnestly. At least right now it’s not that awkward because Goshiki, Semi, and Tendou are doing the same.

“Anyway, let’s arrange some chairs.” Goshiki claps my back. “You can do it, can’t you?”

“Hey, that question is insulting! It’s only chairs!” I scowl while balling both of my fists in front of my chest. This might look cute, but I can punch Goshiki right on the nose if he does something horrible that I don’t appreciate.

“No, wait.” Out of nowhere, Ushijima puts his big left palm on my head and pats it gently. “Even if they’re not that heavy, I still won’t allow you. I’ll do it myself.”

Silence.

With four pair of eyes blinking constantly—mine, Goshiki’s, Semi’s, and Tendou’s. Our colorful irises are fixated on Ushijima’s impassive face, but somehow, I know that all of us are thinking about the same thing. Ushijima Wakatoshi just did a sweet thing to me and I swear, ants could kill me out of jealousy.

It was simple, but the way he behaves strongly implies as if touching me is something he occasionally does. More to that, it strongly implies that we do know each other longer than today.

“Why are you touching me, Ushijima-san?!” I break the atmosphere between us by slapping Ushijima’s hand away from me. I don’t plan to treat him this harshly. I merely do it because I don’t want Goshiki, Semi, and Tendou to be suspicious about our indefinable relationship.

“Oh…” Ushijima clenches his left fist as he brings it back to his hip. “I’m sorry.”

God. No.

I bite my lower lip. He takes my action too seriously. I can tell from the way he looks so remorseful. I can tell from his gloomy tone color. I know him enough to learn that I have to confront him and explain that I didn’t even have the slightest audacity to hurt his feeling. All I did was hide the fact that we’ve been contacting each other for every single day because I don’t want to create any ruckus.

“Goshiki, come with me.” Right away, Ushijima avoids any eye contact with me and calls for help.

“S-sure!” And Goshiki doesn’t reluctant to accept. Is he really considering Ushijima as his rival? As far as I can see, he’s actually flattered for being needed. Probably he mistakes the feeling of “getting inspired” and “I dislike that guy, thus I want to beat him”.

“Eita… Did Wakatoshi just…?” Less than twenty seconds after Ushijima drags Goshiki away to the other side of the gym and enter a room that I guess is a storage, Tendou faces Semi and lands a question.

“No comment,” Semi answers fast.

“Huh? What?” I’m so baffled.

“No, nothing important,” Semi pushes my curiousity away, albeit his attention is wholly taken by the storage room’s door that’s currently wide open. Maybe he wants to be cautious, in case his captain will come back? But why?

“No, wait. I need to say that Wakatoshi might be doing that unconsciously, so forgive him, okay?” Tendou rubs the back of his head. I look at Semi and find a hint of dissatisfaction there.

“I actually didn’t mean to react that way. I was just surprised,” I mumble. “I’ll apologize to him after this. When I have the time.”

“Yes! Please do it!” Tendou approves with his right thumb up.

“Yes, please talk to him, but only when you’re willing to. No pressure given.” Semi smiles warmly at me.

I need to buffer.

What exactly is going on? Why do I feel double-bad now? I know I exaggerated a bit, but did I treat Ushijima that poorly until Semi and Tendou encourage me to apologize? Did Ushijima say something about me to them? Is Ushijima a crybaby? No, the last two are practically impossible.

Truly, I don’t feel okay with any of this. It’s like everyone is hiding something from everyone. First Goshiki, then Semi and Tendou. But I know my place. I can’t complain because I’m no different than them. I really wish I could do something, but I’m too afraid to be reckless and make a fool out of myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Right at the beginning, I actually planned for the heroine/reader to meet the whole Shiratorizawa's team (including Shirabu, Reon, etc.), but then I couldn't perfectly place the scene where she went to Washijou and her mother because Tendou would confront her first. This is so complicated to explain. I'd just say that it'd be too chaotic and there'd be too many characters to write. XD
> 
> 2\. Regarding the reason why Goshiki didn't contact her for 2 months... it will be explained in another fic! It won't have enough space here! (≧∀≦)
> 
> 3\. All the tales about why Semi and Tedou acted mysteriously will also be explicitly explained in another fic! It won't have enough space here! (≧∀≦)
> 
> 4\. Does anyone notice that the heroine/reader has a habit to bite her lower lip whenever she's anxious? :p
> 
> 5\. I adore the next chapter so much. I hope I can finish it ASAP and post it this week. ♥
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much for reading until 80k+ words! See you later~


	19. People Around Him pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know… Don’t make your head too big after hearing this, but I think Wakatoshi has a crush on you,” she enunciates.
> 
> I gulp, acting as if I didn’t think of that just a minute ago. “Really?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> Um...  
> I'm not an emotional person or a big weeper, but [this](http://image.prntscr.com/image/09708af95c3e481b8e108d1b46ee2e62.png) hurts even more than Goshiki's crying face. (╥﹏╥)  
>   
> I read on Tumblr many people got upset because the studio cut the super precious scene where Ushiwaka addresses each of his teammates' weaknesses.  
> I'm sure they can't put it in S03E10 because of the length limit and I honestly think they'll connect that scene to Tsukki (censored for those who haven't read the manga). My assumption is that S04E01 will begin with it.
> 
> And if you realize, they changed the timeline (they've done that many times before).  
> In the manga, the measuring wasn't supposed to happen until it's snowy in November. In the anime, it was still green like usual. Pretty sure it happened directly after the match.  
> It's also **beyond impossible** if they skipped the Nekoma vs. Fukuroudani's match, right? :)
> 
> ~~At least we got to see Nekoma and Fukuroudani in the end credits. Kuroo is so hot wth.~~   
>  ~~I keep re-watching that part.~~   
>  ~~It'll be released roughly a year after today, though.~~   
>  ~~-cries-~~
> 
> This chapter is around 7,5k (longest chapter so far yay). I don't know what I did, but let's just say that the more I wrote, the more my brain gave me new ideas. :')  
> And my feeling when I wrote this was: don't make it too sweet, don't make it to sweet aaaaaaaaa the tension is too much, delete, delete aaaaaaaaa -dies inside- ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

Fifteen minutes before the hands of the round clock hung in the gym hit exactly five p.m., every starting player in the team have arrived back from wherever they were before. They immediately come closer to me, Ushijima, Goshiki, Semi, and Tendou who still stand in circle, on the left side of the gym. From the way their eyes scan me, I know that they’re surprised to find the infamous princess being here. Thankfully, we have Tendou who’s extrovert enough to break the ice by introducing me to them.

There’s Shirabu Kenjirou, a setter. He has a short light brown hair with a side-swiped fringe. He doesn’t look very friendly or even optimistic about meeting a new persom. Even when I say hello cheerfully, he doesn’t respond much. One way or another, he reminds me of Kei, although the major difference is that Kei’s around fifteen centimeters taller than him.

There’s Yamagata Hayato, the main libero of the team. He has a spiky undercut dark brown hair, very similar to Tendou’s, only that the latter is thicker and has no undercut to it. So far, he’s the tallest male libero I’ve ever encountered, standing at almost one hundred seventy-five centimeters. Compared that to Nishonoya who’s only one hundred fifty-nine. They look like a normal high schooler and an elementary kid. Other than that, he seems very stern, but he doesn’t give me the vibe of animosity Shirabu does.

There’s Kawanishi Taichi, a middle blocker. He has a strawberry blonde hair that’s super messy—I’d call that a bedhead, instead of a normal hairstyle. My first impression of him is that he’s as tall as Kei and nice-looking like Semi. By the time I take a glimpse of him for the fifth time, I suddenly feel very sleepy. Maybe because he has a pair of slanted eyes that’s very similar to Akaashi from Fukuroudani. Maybe because he’s very lazy-spoken—if that’s even a term. Maybe because how emotionless his face can become. I have no idea.

Then there’s Ohira Reon—he prefers to be called Reon by everyone. As soon as I discern his existence, I instantly know that he’s a wing spiker and I’m right. It’s pathetic to realize how deep I’m immersed in this volleyball world that I can guess things so easily. He’s not that tall when he stands side by side with Ushijima. My best bet is that he’s only a little bit above one hundred eighty centimeters. He has a strapping figure with dark skin and a short undercut dark brown hairstyle. It’s obvious that he’s not pure Japanese like most of us are.

After all the small greetings, Washijou calls out for Shirabu, Yamagata, Kawanishi, and Tendou—most likely he wants to discuss the practice match. That leaves me alone with Ushijima, Goshiki, Semi, and Reon. It’s a satisfying combination. I just can’t bring myself to imagine how awkward it could be if Goshiki and Tendou weren’t around, but I had to converse with the likes of Shirabu and Kawanishi. The best way to illustrate the situation will be that I’m lost in an uncharted swamp with people who won’t care if a crocodile eats me.

“You’re taller than I thought you would be. How tall are you?” At last, Reon is the first person who asks me a proper question.

“Last April I checked, I was one hundred sixty-eight,” I answer kindly.

“What?! You grew almost eight centimeters in a year?!” Goshiki squeaks and it takes the attention of the whole group. “Ah, but you’re also getting way fatter than before!”

“Well, thank you for saying that and so sorry that my height is genetic.” There’s a big grin on my face, followed by a huge urge to flick Goshiki’s forehead, but he jumps backward faster than my hand can maneuver.

As a follow-up to my frivolous remark to Goshiki, Reon laughs while folding his arms in front of his broad chest. “I knew you two went to the same middle school and such, but I never knew that you’re this close.”

“I can tell you at least ten of his phobias, Reon-san. He’s so timid,” I reveal what I assume everyone already know as these are behavorial things he can’t really hide. Goshiki reacts to that by glaring intensively at me. I stick my tongue out at him. That makes his cheeks flushed and my heart melts because it’s sincerely cute. I can’t think of any other way to describe that.

“Ugh, I won’t lose! I’ll be at least one hundred ninety centimeters!” Goshiki declares for everyone to hear. Both of his arms akimbo and his face has swiftly changed from unreasonably intimidated to determined.

“Hahaha. Do you know that Goshiki is the only regular from the first year? Even all the substitutes are from the second and third year.” Reon shifts back to face me and informs me something I’ve known from Ushijima. Unfortunately, that’s a secret and a secret is something I can’t disclose to anyone.

“Well, I’m not surprised.” I gaze at Goshiki. “That’d be unacceptable if you weren’t a regular, Shiki-chan.”

“I-I know that very well!”

I exhale a puff of air as I give Goshiki a proudful grin. I really am proud of him. If I have one thousand things to say, disappointment will never be one of them. Then I look to my north, to Ushijima who stands between Reon and Semi. He doesn’t hold his head low, but his field of vision doesn’t include me. It hops from Goshiki to Reon to Semi, but never me.

Let me start by stating that I’ve met Ushijima several times and I’ve spent hours beside him. That much is enough for me to learn about his habit of fixating his eyes on people who he has taken a liking to or people who are currently speaking to him. I know how he always stares deeply into my eyes, as if he wants to take a good read on my feeling without me having to say anything, but after I shoved his hand away from patting my head, he has stopped doing that all at once.

I really feel bad. I didn’t intend to make him being uncomfortable at his own residence, specifically when he actually didn’t do any wrong deed. Semi and Tendou were right. I have to apologize soon, but now isn’t the right time to do that. I want to speak to him in a secluded place because there’s a big possibility for me to mention things we have talked about during our chat and all the short phone calls. The best bet is to contact him after I’m home, away from everyone.

* * *

Exactly twenty minutes before six p.m., the opposing team arrives in the gym and starts to prepare themselves around the eight dark grey chairs provided to them. Together with the rest of Shiratorizawa’s team members, I head back to my mother who’s been sitting for some time with Washijou on her left. I see my shoulder bag being put neatly on the chair to her right. I have no idea who grabbed it from the floor. It could be her, it could be Ushiijma or Goshiki who took care of the chairs beforehand. For sure it’s unimportant if I find the answer or no.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but is it okay if she watches us?” Just after I land my bottom on the chair that has my bag on it, Shirabu who stands in front of Washijou throws one question to the latter. From his attitude, I can tell that he truly doesn’t have the slightest intention to kick me out of this gym. He only wants to be cautious and I understand why.

“Hm? What’s wrong with that?” Washijou looks up at Shirabu and asks him back.

“No, it’s just…” Shirabu glances at me once before looking down to the ground. “I heard she’s a manager in Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team, so this seems like a free reconnaissance. We aren’t sure if she can keep a secret.”

“Oi! Now you’re getting rude, Shirabu!” Semi who’s on my northeast grunts and I notice several other people giving Shirabu a questionable face—agreeing on Semi that Shirabu sure is rude to me. That excluding Ushijima whose expression is still as impenetrable as diamond.

I unnoticeably sigh before I speak up, on behalf of this heated atmosphere, “No, it’s okay. I don’t feel insulted at all, but Shirabu-san, why are you doubting your team?”

“Huh?” Shirabu averts his eyes back into mine. His eyebrows furrow.

What’s with that face? Is he the one that’s being insulted now? Talk about being a comedian.

“If you think Karasuno will become significantly stronger just because I tell them about Shiratorizawa’s play style, then don’t you think it’s easy for every team in the world to be number one? And it’s not like Shiratorizawa will become weaker just because I watch you.” I lift my left eyebrow as my voice gets more pitchy. “And this one is no different than watching the recordings of your matches. Come on.”

I think I stab Shirabu precisely on the right spot. He doesn’t look ashamed, but more like surprised that I’m smart enough to retaliate. This is the result of living for years with my mother and knowing Kei for the past few months. I learn how to burn people by experiencing it myself. Every single day.

“Hahaha! Hime-chan! I really like your straightforwardness and rationality! You should’ve still come to Shiratorizawa to become our manager! It won’t be boring with you around!” Tendou yells with his index finger pointing at my face. A second after that, Reon chuckles while nodding his head. Honestly, he’s so mature to the point that he treats us wild teenagers like little kids.

“Satori, don’t say that.” My mother smirks at me. “This girl is still bitter because her scholarship got can—”

“Stop saying that, please?!” I interrupt her for good, but I know it’s too late. Everyone here knows what she wanted to say. As a result to that, I’m presented by some vague smiles and even more pitiful looks. This is the number one reason why I dislike this subject matter. Who enjoys being looked down?

“Let’s warm up.” To rupture the awkward silence, Ushijima raises his voice to order his teammates. Without lazing up or uttering a single word back to their captain, they enter the court together. For a moment, my mind goes to the default condition in Karasuno. Nishinoya and Tanaka often don’t obey Sawamura. Sometimes Hinata and Kageyama merge in. God knows how many times our beloved captain has almost suffered from dysphonia.

Compared to those crows, everyone in Shiratorizawa shows a tremendous respect to Ushijima. It’s like their loyalty is on a whole different level and I doubt it’s solely because of how talented or reputable Ushijima is. For me—someone who doesn’t even know him for that long—Ushijima is just a great person in general. When a person is great, people will like him. When people like him, they’ll value him high. Exactly that.

“Eh? Semi-san isn’t the main setter?” I exclaim when I see a substitute throwing ball after ball for Shirabu to set for everyone else to spike. This usually means that he’s the main setter because he has the chance to play first. I too see Semi lining behind Reon, waiting for his turn to jump.

“No, he isn’t,” Washijou quickly answers me. “Eita is too good.”

I rotate my head to perfectly have a face-to-face battle with Washijou. What did he just say? That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard so far. Without a doubt, he’s a great coach that has led Shiratorizawa to the nationals several times, so maybe I should copy his way. Tomorrow, I’ll suggest Ukai to change Kageyama because he’s too good.

“I know you’re confused,” he adds, using a tone so flat that it makes me skeptical about what he’s going to say next. “I’m not saying that everyone is useless. They’re all more talented than your common high school students, but this is one thing that you should know about Shiratorizawa. Everyone here is playing to support Wakatoshi. Eita’s set isn’t as safe as Kenjirou. When he sees the chance, he’ll set to someone else to show off his own ability, instead of Wakatoshi’s.”

 _Everyone here is playing to support Wakatoshi. Everyone here is playing to show Wakatoshi’s ability, not theirs._ More than anyone else in this gym, I understand the most that Washijou’s sentences aren’t very nice to proclaim. It can really sting people to the point of abomination.

“Don’t show that kind of fake face, please?” My mother leans her back more against the chair and puts her long right leg on her left. “Your old team also had that system. You’re literally the female version of Wakatoshi, but of course, he’s way better.”

“What is your problem…?” I mutter dejectedly, then I bring myself back to the view in front of me. It’s only one person left before Ushijima’s turn to spike. I admit, I’ve watched Shiratorizawa’s recordings for some references before going to Interhigh. The same as Aoba Jousai, Datekou, and some other schools that we might face during that time. This will be the first time I’ll watch it closely. It’s not even five meters away from me.

Am I excited? Yes, sort of. Name me one normal person who wouldn’t? No one can’t because we’re talking about Ushijima Wakatoshi.

“Oh, my. What a beautiful form.”

I extended my eyes. Not that much, but everyone who acknowledges it will know that I agree with four words that just came out of my mother’s mouth.

It’s Ushijima’s turn to spike. It’s a very normal spike—maybe he only uses roughly fifty percent of his full power. I’ve seen him spiked more intense than that, but it’s not about how powerful that is. What captivates me is the way he jumps and positions everything he owns—his pair of sturdy legs curve behind exquisitely, his left arm floats up in the air, and how his torso tilts back slightly. Anyone could fall in love just by witnessing that. It’s really beautiful.

“Now that’s a lovely face you have,” my mother states, taking away my thrill of Ushijima, although not for long because it’s Goshiki’s turn to spike, which I must see. He shouts some random syllables once his ball solidly smashes the ground. How lively.

“Kaa-san, you’re definitely going to give Ushijima-san a scholarship, right?” I ask without looking at the woman beside me.

“That question is unnecessary. I’m going to get fired if I don’t get him into my team, unless if there’s a good reason to that.”

I giggle. “That would be awesome.”

Because I wish for a lifetime to keep seeing that beautiful form. I don’t want to see it through thick glasses of television. I want the real one. My heart warms up, but it’s not merely because of a feeling of amazement. There’s something more to that, I just don’t know what. What I know is if he’s near my mother, then I’ll always have the smooth path to keep coming back for more.

* * *

In all honestly, I thought Shiratorizawa wouldn’t win that easily. No matter how strong they are, university level is above them and according to my mother, Iwanuma University isn’t that bad at all. Not that strong—because her Miyaoshi is the strongest in the prefecture—but also not that awful. Karasuno won’t stand a chance to beat this university, but Shiratorizawa proves me wrong. They win all the five matches.

No one forces me to do it, but I just feel the need to hand them their towels and water bottles. Most of them smile gratefully at me, but all of them say their thank you, including Ushijima. I smile sweetly at him and that’s when he finally looks at me. I almost thought that he was going to wear the same smile—or at least the tiniest version of it—but no. Guess that’ll never be his way. I should understand that in advance.

“Are we going home now?” I question my mother as I check the clock up there. It’s already four minutes after eight p.m.

“I’m going to pick some papers from the instructor room, okay?” At the same time as Washijou, my mother stands from the chair. I know the papers she meant are the records of the students. It contains their basic profile—such as birth date, height, weight, parents’ data—but also their health stats, whether they’ve had or still have some specific diseases that require special assistances. I understand it’s very important for the scouting process, but somehow I’m positive that my mother will spend ineffective amount of time chatting Washijou instead.

“How long will it take?” I have to make sure. “I’m starving. I haven’t had anything since one p.m.”

“Eh?! Since one p.m.?! That’s seven hours ago! Let’s eat with us, then!” Tendou right away offers me.

I look at him and from the way his eyes dilated, I know that he’ll be so happy if I accept. He’s so enthusiastic just about anything.

“Yeah, if you come with us, the food’s free,” Reon sends the second offer before turning to face Kawanishi who’s busy wiping away the sweat on his neck. “Didn’t you have lunch in our cafeteria? What’s the menu for today?”

“ _Donburi_ ,” the strawberry blonde shortly replies.

“Which one?” I carefully ask because I don’t think I can freely connect with this Kawanishi guy as much as I can with someone more approachable like Semi, Tendou, or Reon.

“Hm...” With eyes inspecting other things around, Kawanishi shifts the towel in his right hand to his forehead. “I think there are four varieties.”

Four varieties of _donburi_ served in a school cafeteria for free? Okay. I’m sold. Look how cheap I can be.

* * *

After we’re all done cleaning up some stuff, the gym is locked by Washijou while I head to the cafeteria with Goshiki, Ushijima, Semi, Tendou, Reon, and Yamagata. Shirabu and Kawanishi refuse to join us because their house is just a block away from here, so they might as well eat at home. As I walk on an open area, I learn that among people around me, Goshiki’s the only one who doesn’t live in the dorm—because of the same reason Shirabu and Kawanishi has. I only laugh when they inform me because I already know that about Ushijima and Tendou.

It only takes us less than a minute to arrive at this small-sized cafeteria, compared to the one I passed by this afternoon. Yet again, these boys have to rub some salt on my wounds by stating that this cafeteria is a special cafeteria built specifically for the boys’ volleyball team. Apparently, it’s not a hot topic anymore that the team is granted many special treatments by the school, simply because they’re the number one club that has won so many competitions since more than twenty years ago. Set that aside, the members are literally gazillions, so the school feels the obligation not to make the main cafeteria that crowded. What an irritating reason.

There are two rows of tables, each consists out of eight big white ones. Six chairs with the corresponding color surrounding them. There’s no one occupying this place besides an old cafeteria lady who idles behind the food counter. Goshiki points on the left side fourth table from the entrance and tells me to drop my bag there. I do. I put it on the left chair. Once I’m sure that my bag is excellently placed, I follow Goshiki to queue in front of the food counter.

Kawanishi was accurate. There are four varieties of _donburi_ in the menu. The common _katsudon_ , which is breaded deep-fried pork cutlets topped on rice. Chicken _katsudon_ , which is another version of the regular _katsudon_ , only the pork is changed with chicken breast. _Tendon_ , which is mixed of  _tempura_ topped on rice. The last one is _oyakodon_ , which is simmered chicken, egg, and sliced scallion topped on rice. This is the one that Goshiki, Semi, Yamagata, and I choose. Tendou and Reon chooses _tendon_ —I don’t know if the former does that on purpose to make a pun out of his name. Ushijima chooses _katsudon_. Alongside the main dish, we’re given a plastic cup full of cold water. We can also request for a shredded cabbage and carrot salad topped with mayonaise, but I have enough of this luxurious treatment.

Together like a bunch of lost children in the woods, we walk to the table where I put my bag on. I sit on the left chair after shoving my bag behind, Goshiki sits on my right, Semi sits on his right. In front of me, there’s Tendou, Ushijima, then Yamagata. Reon—as the most mature one—decides to drag a chair from another table to the spot between me and Tendou. I’m glad the table is big enough to carry all of our trays.

“Hime-chan, does Karasuno also have cafeteria like this?” Tendou’s curiousity builds up, as soon as he uses his chopstick to flank a bite-sized piece of a shrimp _tempura_.

“We have a small cafeteria with some tables, but they’re only selling breads, _yakisoba_ , _onigiri_ , and stuff like that. We don’t have a full course meal like this one,” I answer in detail. It’s actually more common for middle and high schools in this country to have a simple cafeteria like Karasuno’s. That’s the reason why most of the students always pack their own lunch from home.

“I see... That’s dull.” Tendou’s voice isn’t that clear because of the chewing activity he’s doing, but I get the gist of it. “So, are you close to someone at the moment, Hime-chan?”

“Eh? Why are we going there?” I confusedly frown while blowing the steam away from the mix of rice and thick chicken broth on my spoon. I notice that all the eyes are starting to focus on me—even Ushijima’s—as if they’re longing for my answer. That’s creepy, but I have enough self-control to not allow it bother me that much.

“Oi, don’t ask her pointless questions.” I don’t know for how many times Semi has scolded Tendou, only for today.

Unconsciously, I smile because these two remind me so much of Bokuto and Akaashi. The more I think about it, the more I realize that Bokuto is so similar to Tendou, even their appearance. Spiky hair, big eyes, wide grin—aren’t those Bokuto’s trademarks? The only difference is that Bokuto always roars when he speaks. Semi on the other hand is Akaashi’s twin brother. Both of them always try to reprimand their “partner”.

“I’ll take that as ‘no’ then?” Tendou ignores Semi’s words and that makes the latter sigh in defeat with a whatever-I-don’t-care-anymore face. Exactly Akaashi to Bokuto.

“Yeah, not really…” Once I’m sure that all the delicious stuff on my spoon is warm enough for my tongue, I put it inside of my mouth in one time. It’s hotter than I thought it would be, but it won’t burn anything.

“Not really? What do you mean?”

“Hm…” I chew several times before gulping down my throat. “I’m close to almost all of my clubmates, if that’s what you mean?”

“That’s not what I meant at all, Hime-chan!” Tendou swings his chopstick up in the air.

Okay. I don’t give a damn about that anymore. I’ve said this many times before—I’m not a stupid girl. I know Tendou wants to hear a name, but I don’t have any, unless if he wants to consider this long list of my Hollywood heartthrobs. The thing is, people like Tendou will keep begging me until I give them what they want. Maybe I should just say Hinata or Nishinoya? But then there’s a possibility of them believing in it.

As I scoop another portion of my food and blow it again, I begin to take a good look of every corner of this cafeteria. I see some colorful papers stamped on the walls. I can’t really read from this distance, but I suppose it’s a food menu? Or maybe some notes from Washijou? I have no idea. When I turn my head to the left, my eyes catch some interesting words, written with a thick black pen on a whiteboard that’s hung on a wall, exactly right next to the food counter. How could I miss that one before?

 _Morning Juice’s ingredients:_  
_3 medium carrots_  
_1 bundle of spinach_  
_4 big celery stalks_  
_1 cucumber (rind included)_  
_2cm of ginger_  
_A good fresh squeeze of lemon_  
_Apples/pineapples/strawberries (optional)_

“Do you guys have to drink that every morning?” Out of curiosity, I ask. Most people will have to be forced to death to even brush a small drop of that juice against their lips, but these volleyball players are everyday athletes, thus it gives them a huge benefit. Maybe I should start suggesting this to my club. I’m sure we have more than enough money to stock these ingredients for twelve people only.

“Yeah, it’s disgusting!” Tendou declares and Reon laughs—I don’t know whether he agrees or no, but I opt to believe that he agrees on that one.

“Yeah, it sure is disgusting. I used to drink similar thing when I was still playing volleyball,” I reminisce a minor memory from my past. “More like I was forced by my parents to drink it.”

“I think I’ll still drink it even when I’m not active anymore. It’s good,” Yamagata—who hasn’t been speaking to me besides saying hello—voices his opinion.

“It’s good, but I’ll always pinch my nose when I drink that.” I rock my head up and down slowly in response to Yamagata.

“Hahaha, I do exactly the same.” This time, Reon also joins in. “Sometimes when the vegetables are wilted, it becomes too bitter.”

“Yeah, why would you drink bitter things if you can drink sweet things? Logic,” I approve Reon’s testimony. “But I think I’m going to tell my boys in the club to drink a juice like this.”

“That’s a good idea. Hime-chan wants to be a coach, right? I don’t know why, but I can tell that in the future, you can be a great one like Haruka-chan,” Tendou showers me with a touching praise.

“Thank you, that’s—” I freeze when I realize one crucial problem, concerning Tendou’s statement. How could he know that I want to be a coach? Goshiki wouldn’t be the one who told him because we lost contact for two months. I’m sure it’s not my mother either. Today is the first time my mother goes to Shiratorizawa after I inspirited myself that I aspire to follow my parents’ career path.

But there’s someone in this cafeteria who knows.

“Hime-chan? What’s wrong?” Tendou detects how stoned I’ve become.

“Tendou-san,” I grimly call Tendou’s last name. “How could you know that I want to become a coach? I’m pretty sure no one has told you about that.”

Checkmate.

But it’s not like I cherish how all the eyes in this small room are stuck aggresively on me before rapidly spinning around, trying to either seek for help or run from this state.

“But yeah!” I smile as I drop my spoon on the bowl in front of me. “Just like my parents, I want to be a coach. Am I right, blabbermouth-Ushijima-san?”

And how the tremor of hell has bestowed upon this cafeteria.

“Tendou, you should install a brake for your mouth so you’ll know when to stop!” Semi lectures his red-haired friend, while the criminal only closes his eyes innocently, as if that’ll make him invisible and help him out of this problem.

Reon doesn’t laugh anymore, but being as mature as he can be, he swings his head side to side, to show how much he’s disappointed at Tendou. Yamagata who sits diagonally to me doesn’t really react to any of this. He keeps eating his food in solitude. Either he really doesn’t care, he’s really hungry, or he knows this is bound to happen, so he’s already prepared. Goshiki who sits cutely beside me only frames his round face with a small smile. I think he too feels the same as Yamagata, but at least he’s more expressive.

And Ushijima. This Ushijima freaking Wakatoshi. He literally doesn’t do anything. His face is still as flat as our table. Only now and then, he switches to glance at Tendou, Semi, then back at Tendou. Still never to me. Previously, when he did this, I felt bad because of how I slapped his hand from touching me. Now I feel that he deserves to feel remorseful. This bastard.

“Hime-chan, it’s not Wakatoshi’s fault! That was us!” Despite the delay, Tendou eventually brings enough courage to explain.

“What? ‘Us’? You mean ‘you’?” Semi glares sardonically at Tendou while giving such a hard emphasis on his “us” and “you”.

“Yeah! Last Saturday when you were in Tokyo, do you remember that you ignored Wakatoshi-kun?”

“What about that? I’m all ears.” I support my chin on my left palm, with elbow stuck to the table. My eyes won’t ever avert away from Tendou’s face until he uncovers everything to me.

“Wakatoshi-kun wasn’t optimal during that day! We were worried because even Tanji-kun yelled at him and Wakatoshi-kun has always been his favorite person! But then Wakatoshi kept checking at his phone.” Not like it’s important, but during this moment, I realize how Tendou sometimes calls Ushijima with “Wakatoshi”, but sometimes also adding the suffix _-kun_.

“And then?” I wholly permit him to go on.

“I knew his password, so when he went to the toilet, I opened his phone and I saw your LINE. I didn’t read all of it because there were a lot. Only the newest one when he apologized to you,” Tendou finishes off his story fast.

“That’s not only it, is it, Tendou?” Semi unveils something more to the story, much to my dismay.

“Yeah. I… also… told everyone in this table, plus Taichi and Kenjirou… plus Tanji-kun. When Wakatoshi came back, I confronted him about this, so he told me things.”

I grit my teeth. What the hell was that? I know Tendou rarely uses filter when he talks. I know he’ll ask whatever he likes with a small consideration, but who would’ve thought that he could be this obnoxious and impolite?

“That doesn’t give you any rights to check on his phone,” I sneer at him before looking back at Ushijima who’s still facing Tendou, instead of me. “And Ushijima-san, at least you could’ve kept it a secret. Even if these people are your friends, at least show some respect for me.”

“I’m very sorry about all of these, but it’s not like you told confidential secrets to Wakatoshi,” Reon takes over the conversation by explicitly defending Ushijima and that makes me shift my gaze at him.

“Oh, and that gives him all the rights to tell everyone? Reon-san, it’s all about the repercussion. Isn’t that the very reason why Tendou-san bothered me with asking whether I have a boyfriend?” I blatantly refuse to make anyone think that I exaggerate. “I dislike it when people tease me that way. Once or twice is okay, I’ll take it as a joke, but these people keep doing it over and over again. It’s uncomfortable, as if they don’t have life. Ask Shiki-chan how much I’m against that.”

As I expected, what I get after is a dead silence. I personally think Yamagata is the bravest one here because he keeps chewing his _oyakodon_ and gulping down his water without caring about what other people will think. Two thumbs up for him.

“Hime-chan, sorry. I won’t talk about this anymore, okay?” Tendou softly and unintendedly asks me to calm down.

To that, I take a long and deep breath. “It happened. Just please, I beg you, don’t tell my parents about this…”

“Ah! You are all here!” Alongside that ear-piercing voice, the cafeteria’s door behind me is brutally opened. I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know that it’s my mother. I’m so scared if the door will fly and hit me right in the neck. I’m not ready to be headless.

“Haruka-chan, are you going to eat?” Tendou offers my mother and please no. I want to go home soon. I don’t want to be here any longer, even if that means I have to say goodbye to Goshiki.

“Nah, not in the mood.”

I dance inside, feeling blessed for hearing that answer.

“I need to talk about something.” My mother walks to the other side of the table, between Yamagata and Semi. I see some white papers in her hands, at the same as when she hurls them on the table, at least she’s careful enough not to make them land on someone’s food. Then she drags a random chair to sit on it.

“What is it, Haruka-san?” Semi smiles at her.

“I know we’ve talked about this since you were still in your first year, but will all of you still enroll to my university?” she asks. Her eyes are reading some black words on the uppermost paper of the stack. There’s also a picture of Reon on the bottom left of it.

Just now I realized that my mother has known these people since more than two years ago, which is actually a no-brainer fact. She has been scouting here all the time and all the third years must’ve been joining the team since their first year. It’s valid to say that my mother has been taking a close look at them for a long tine. That’s the reason why Tendou acts all buddy-buddy with her, even by calling her using _-chan_.

“I will.” Again, Semi’s the first one who assures.

“I will,” Reon and Yamagata follow simultaneously.

Tendou raises his right hand.  “Me too!”

“And Wakatoshi?” My mother looks sideways at Ushijima. “Tanji-sensei just told me that you got an offer from a university in Brazil?”

“Yes, but I’m still not sure about that.” After what feels like eternity, finally I hear Ushijima’s voice again.

“I’ll be happy if you can come to my university, but if the one from Brazil is better, then grab the opportunity. Don’t stay here just because of your friends,” my mother advises Ushijima, even though I’m sure the great ace will never let that become a reason to detain his future. “I’ll leave one slot for you. Please decide before February next year.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“One more thing.” My mother collects all the papers tidily. “This weekend I’m going to coach you because Tanji-sensei has a check-up. Don’t tell anyone outside this circle because I can get scolded by my university if they find out I’m teaching for a team other than my own.”

“Really? Saturday and Sunday?” Tendou is so thrilled, his mouth is a flawless round.

“Yes. I’ll contact Tanji-sensei later about the time because I’ll still have to coach my own team.” My mother grins warmly at the loudest guy in the gang.

“Sure, sure! Will Hime-chan also come?” Tendou turns his head to me. Why is he talking to casually? Does he forget what just happened? Does he think I’m that easy to forgive him?

“I can’t. I have a practice,” I promptly reject the request. There’s just no way I’ll willingly come back here. Today I was dragged, then I had this little drama with some. I don’t know whether that’ll happen again this weekend, but better prevent it while I can.

“You don’t have any practice on Sunday.” My mother pouts.

“Excuse me, but Sunday is my holiday.” I grab my cup that only holds a quarter of water left.

“You’re just nervous to meet Wakatoshi, aren’t you? Ah, maybe you’re interested in another person? Kawanishi Taichi looks like your elementary school friend, am I right? The one who gave you flowers and chocolates?”

I roll my eyes as I drink my water and that displeasure is so obvious until my mother chuckles annoyingly. When I’m done, I give people around me a look of “see what I mean?” and miraculously, I know that they understand my struggle for every single day. She’s already so loud about Kei, so I can’t afford by adding Ushijima, who she adores more than anything in this world. If it were to happen for real, it wouldn’t take that long for me to be admitted into a mental asylum.

She then starts to talk about her own university—which I’m overjoyed about because she left me alone. She tells us about the new gym they’re constructing at the moment and it even has its own café full of healthy recipes, written by the students and lecturers from the nutrition department. They already have a fitness center, but next year they’re also planning to build a sauna, something that Shiratorizawa doesn’t have. Long story short, I need to wait for another ten minutes before at last, I can go home with peace.

* * *

Once I’m out of the cafeteria, I lift my head up to see a dark blue sky with millions of sparkles scattered all over it. It’s so clear that I can see some colorful colors. Other than white, there are orange, yellow, and the darker versions of those two. I never thought that the sky in Wakano—which is very close to a big city like Sendai—could still be so enchanting. I can’t even choose which one I prefer, here or back in Torono.

“I’m going to the toilet first. Just wait here. You won’t be scared, will you?” my mother speaks to me, which I reply with a single nod. I don’t know what’s the point of her asking because I know she’s going to leave me, nonetheless.

It sure is dark with no one around, but it’s not that eerie as there are many street lights. Sometimes I see one or two people walking from far—I just wish for them to be humans. I’m actually not a paranoid person when it comes to ghosts or some such. I think I’ll scream when I see them, not before, but it’s not like I want that to occur. I’ve heard some stories from people and none of them is a pleasant experience.

Then I hear a sound of door being opened. It’s way softer than what my mother did. I rotate my head to the back to see Ushijima leaving the cafeteria all alone. I thought he was going to the toilet like my mother, until I’m well aware that he dashes quite fast toward me. For the first time, his eyes are going straight into mine and I don’t know what to feel when it gets closer with each passing second.

“What do you need?” I sharply ask, even before he stops right in front of me.

“I want to apologize. Privately,” he mutters.

“You mean your friends told you to apologize?” I emphasize the word “friends”.

His expression is somewhat shocked, but also painful. “Why are you being like this to me?”

And I feel terrible. Again.

“…yeah, it’s okay. I’m not mad.” I look away to his right, although there are only plain walls of buildings. “But I’m not in the mood to contact you ever again.”

My sentence’s far from being decent. _I’m not in the mood_ is a present case. _Ever again_ is a present and future. Whatever. I couldn’t care less about anything I’ll say in the next five minutes prior to my mother coming back.

“I’m sorry, but please don’t do that?”

Hearing Ushijima plead so weakly melts my heart. I’m conscious that I have this bad habit of “testing” him. I’d act super angry, even when I know he can’t take that matter lightly. Right now, I’m genuinely a bit mad, but there’s still no need for me to hyperbole every single thing. As if telling his friends about us is the same as him killing my cat.

“Is it embarrassing for you if people find out that you know me?” His timbre is still as soft as room temperature butter.

“Why would I be embarrassed? You’re Ushijima Wakatoshi, everyone would be happy to know you.” It’s about time for me to lock my eyes back with him.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“You don’t.”

“Then why don’t you want to contact me ever again?”

“Because you’ll tell your friends…” My voice resembles a weep.

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I promise I won’t do it again. I’ve changed my password, but there’s…” It’s not Ushijima’s thing to put a breathing space between his words, but he does. “I actually like it when my friends know about us.”

“You like it?” There’s no hesitation for me repeat after him.

“Yeah, especially when they tease me about you.”

My heart flinches, right before I abruptly duck my head to take a good look at the grey pavement my school shoes land on. What was that tiny pang on my chest? No. More like what was he talking about? Did he just imply that he likes me in that way? In a romantic way? No, that musn’t be it. Ushijima has a very bad communication skill. He must’ve been confused with his own feeling, but why does my naughty brain display me so many memories?

He was sad when I didn’t contact him until he wasn’t focused on the practice. He kept asking to have a phone call with me. He patted my head and looked heartbroken when I propelled. He even avoided my eyes—something that I thought would never occur, considering how he enjoyed staring deeply at me. Tendou also asked whether I’m dating someone.

Is he really?

Wait. Why am I fighting with inner-self, when I know that I can’t ever find the answer. My motto has always been “if you want to know, then ask”. Meaning, I could’ve just asked him to elaborate his real feeling, right?

No, I can’t. I don’t want to ask because I don’t want to hear the answer. I don’t want to fluster myself nor him. I don’t want our normal relationship to change, regardless what his answer will be. I just don’t want to be near something that I don’t even know about.

“Is there something wrong?” Ushijima notices my unique reaction.

“Oh? Wakatoshi?” And in a flash, I’m saved by mother’s voice. This will officially be the first time in my life, where I’m so content to have her around.

“Kaa-san.” Ignoring Ushijima, I call my mother who skips some steps on her way to me. Luckily enough, the toilet is not that far onward, so it only takes her less than ten seconds to come close.

“What’s wrong?” she asks the same question, only louder now.

“Nothing. He wanted to go to the toilet, but he saw me waiting alone, so he’s kind enough to stay with me until you’re back.” There we go again with my genius lie. I glance at Ushijima to signal him to leave.

“Yes. Take care on your way back, [L/N], Haruka-san.” Ushijima bows to my mother before walking forward. I’m relieved that he’s not being dense during time like this. I was already preparing myself with a comeback, in case he revealed the truth.

My mother doesn’t straightaway move her feet to the parking lot. Instead, she focuses her sight on Ushijima, following him until he’s captured by the darkness—figuratively. The very next thing she does is supporting her right palm on her hip and looking down at me because I’m a good fifteen centimeters shorter than her. Thanks to her natural height and heels.

“You know… Don’t make your head too big after hearing this, but I think Wakatoshi has a crush on you,” she enunciates.

I gulp, acting as if I didn’t think of that just a minute ago. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.” She rubs the back of her hair with all five of her slender left fingers. “I can just tell from the way he looks at you.”

“…we don’t know about that.” I stay composed, albeit my hands form into perfect balls. I do this to suppress any feelings I might have. Might.

“Yes, but if that’s true, then I’ll be so proud of you. Who would reject Ushijima Wakatoshi? If only I were thirty years younger…” She playfully smirks at me. “What will you do if that’s true?”

“About that you wished you were thirty years younger so you could date Ushijima-san? I’ll tell Tou-san that her wife is a cougar-wannabe.”

And that makes her lecture me for the next five minutes, although none of it is serious. But just so she knows—I’m not sure of what I will do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to not add the tag Goshiki Tsutomu/Reader because overall, he won't come out that much. His portion is roughly the same as Bokuto, Kageyama, etc., although his relationship with the heroine is more intimate than any of those people combined.
> 
> *and yay, in this fic Tendou won't stop playing volleyball after high school! :D
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	20. The Moon in Her Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“The thing about Kei is… I’m not proud of him.”_
> 
> _“I’m not going to date him because it’s impossible for me to be in love with someone that I’m not proud of.”_
> 
> _“I’m waiting for the moment when I can tell everyone that I’m very proud of him. Pathetic to admit, but I don’t think it’ll ever happen.”_
> 
> I end my sentence with a gloomy chuckle. My eyes fixate back at the sky, now particularly at the moon and I can’t help but to think of Kei. Despite how my mouth declares to the world that I don’t expect him to do something praiseworthy, my heart—one thing that will never lie—can’t stop wishing upon the stars for it to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update again... D;  
> This was actually done 2 days ago, but I just got time to proofread it! ~~And my energy is only 5% left, but aaah, I'll proofread it again later.~~
> 
> As an apology, ~~for those of you who haven’t seen it~~ , please click [this](http://www.takaratomy.co.jp/products/haikyu_vobaca/images/event/jumpfesta_2017/img009_b.png). Hands down, the best uniform in HQ universe (and haircuts). ♡  
> Here’s the [full link](http://www.takaratomy.co.jp/products/haikyu_vobaca/event/event_jumpfesta_2017.html), in case you want more.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

The very next morning I have breakfast with my parents, my mother tells me about her coaching schedule for this weekend. On Saturday, she’s going to be at Shiratorizawa from early in the morning until afternoon, which is an absolute match for their usual schedule, which is from eight a.m. until two p.m. From there on until late night, she’s going to coach her own team at Miyaoshi. On Sunday, it’s switched. From ten a.m. until four p.m., she’s going to be at Miyaoshi and she’ll spend the rest of the day at Shiratorizawa. She has informed Washijou about the time difference, so everyone will adjust and be well-prepared.

I’m not surprised when she asks me to come with her on Sunday. From the way she contemplates my eyes, I know she anticipates me to refuse and I surely do. This has no connection with the little chaos between me and Ushijima yesterday. I just don’t see the benefit of going there. More importantly, I want to spend a good amount of me time on that day. I’ll surf the internet while licking a cold stick of my favorite ice cream, watch some funny reality shows while eating some seaweed-flavored chips, or just lie in bed doing nothing—maybe playing some casual games on my phone. Some kids already prepare their mental for the impending summer holiday and please consider me as one of them.

Unfortunately, knowing my mother equals knowing how she won’t stop bugging me until I say yes, even until I leave the dining room and dash to the door to put on my footwear. My father is a melancholy person, but he isn’t the type to express his anger. Even then, I can sense how he too is disturbed by my mother’s never-ending pushy words. The best option for me is to ignore her until I’m out of the house and onto my next destination, which is the train station.

Aside from the taxing morning, my school day elapses in a mediocre state. It’s just another Tuesday with nothing memorable going on. Some bearable subjects, some dull subjects. During lunch break, I go to the cafeteria with Kei and Yamaguchi and get all the food and drink that I want. I talk to some of my classmates about their plan for summer holiday. I personally don’t have any greater plan than going to the summer training camp—if that’s even counted as a holiday because holiday equals resting, not exerting. If later on my clubmates want to bring me to a firework festival or other celebrations, I’d be happy to go with them. Beach? Not too much.

“Wow, it looks steaming hot outside!” Right after the last bell of the day rings, some boys who group themselves near my classroom’s door exclaim synchronously. We’re very lucky to have air conditioners, because if not, then I might as well attend the school with a thin tank top and short pants. Miyagi has somewhat oceanic climate, which is not too hot during summer and not too cold during winter, but even if the temperature doesn’t go above thirty-five degrees Celsius, it’s still able to burn any unprotected skin.

After cleaning my table and supporting the strap of my bag on my right shoulder, I walk to Kei’s desk. I notice Yamaguchi doing the same from the right side of the class. Though I may not say it now, I sincerely feel bad for these two people, plus everyone in any active sport clubs. They still have their practice throughout summer and I can imagine how grueling it’ll be. I was there several times, I experienced everything first-hand. It felt good to play my favorite activity along with my friends, but I had to stay dehydrated if I didn’t wish to pass out in the middle of spiking a ball.

“Today we’re only going to practice until six, am I right? I want to practice my jump float serve with Shimada-san,” Yamaguchi remarks as Kei stands up from his seat, ready to leave this classroom and move to his clubroom.

I bob my head to validate Yamaguchi. Yesterday night, all the third and second years told Ukai that they want to refine their own skill—in which I’ve promised Azumane to help him pull off a perfect jump serve. Ukai then decided that for today, we’re still going to divide our club into two teams and have our usual match, but only until six p.m., exactly the same time as when we were still preparing for our final exam. Besides Azumane, I don’t know what the others are planning to do, but if I can, I’m willing to land a hand.

“Oi. I need to talk to you.” Just after I step out of my classroom with Kei and Yamaguchi trailing behind me, I find Kageyama standing on my left with both hands in his trousers’ pocket. He stares at me with a stern face, but because I know him well enough, I also know that he doesn’t intend to commit any crime around here. He was just born that way. Hence, without having a second thought, I nod to give him a resounding agreement.

“What for?” Kei’s sudden disruption makes me glance up and what I see is how he squints unpleasantly to Kageyama. That “what for?” question fits him more.

And because Kageyama despises Kei like no else, he immediately scowls, carving more structures to his already-hardened expression. “You don’t have to know everything and you don’t have to be that protective. I’m not interested in the goods you’ve used, anyway.”

 _Goods Kei has used?_ If only I didn’t know these two and their quirky personalities—if it’s even proper to name it that way. If only I didn’t know how chaotic the outcome would be if I let my emotion overcome me, then I would’ve taken one of my shoes off and slapped Kageyama’s face with its sole. It wouldn’t have affected me to spit on his face as well.

“Tsukki, it’s okay. Let’s go,” Yamaguchi softly suggests Kei not to be immature about one small matter like this. After a small grunt and a big unnecessary glare to Kageyama, Kei eventually turns around and leaves with his childhood friend.

Five seconds haven’t even passed when Kageyama snaps his tongue out of rage. “What’s his problem? So annoying.”

I chuckle lightly. Kei and Kageyama are like oil and water. Let alone seeing them supporting each other mentally and physically, I can’t even see them hanging out during a normal occasion without lighting up a fight. If I really have to choose whose fault it is, it must be Kei’s. Kageyama can literally do nothing, but out of nowhere, Kei will come to him, mock him about his past, call him a “King”, and many more. If only Kei hadn’t done any of these, then their relationship would’ve been okay to the least. I mean, Kageyama and Hinata have a healthy relationship. Even Kageyama and I do.

But in the end of the day, the one who deserves all the standing ovations is Yamaguchi. His patience to be by Kei’s side for more than five years is jaw-dropping.

“So… what’s wrong?” I question Kageyama as both of us scoot closer to the big window in front of my classroom. This way, we won’t stand on the middle of the hallway and block people’s path.

“Yesterday I met Oikawa-san when I was on the way home.”

My eyebrows furrow because I don’t see why Kageyama has to drag me just for this, but because of something called curiosity, I demand for more, “And then?”

“I asked him for advice… about Hinata.” Kageyama seems so unsure on how to tell his story and I bet it’s because he has set his regality aside for a help from his “archenemy”. “He only asked me back whether I’ve given a toss that Hinata wants. He said that the one who’s responsible for each attack is Hinata, not me.”

I don’t instantly respond when Kageyama stops talking. I blink several times, waiting for him to tell more, but he stays inaudible. Then I sense a huge uncertainty in his eyes and I don’t like that. Kageyama is one of the main pillars in our team. He has always been so confident in his own skill and he has done everything flawlessly. Seeing him doubting himself like this isn’t a pleasant feeling, especially when the Spring High is just right around the corner.

“He’s right, but not entirely,” I voice my opinion blatantly. “Both you and Hinata must create an extraordinary balance. You have to give a good toss and Hinata needs to spike it well. The problem is… we all know that Hinata doesn’t have the technique to do that, yet.”

Kageyama rocks his head up and down with mouth expands slightly. “But after that, Ukai-san came to me. He told me to give a toss that falls once it hits the highest point of impact of the spiker, so the ball won’t pass through it with a lot of force.”

“A toss that falls…” I stroke my chin with my right thumb and index finger, but only for a moment as I fully comprehend what Ukai meant. “I see! Yes, yes, that must be easier for Hinata to control, but won’t that be too difficult for you? You’ll need some time to work on it.”

“There’s nothing too difficult for me.” Kageyama gives me a look that I believe only warriors will show in a bloodbath battle, when their life flashes before their eyes and they have to quickly do something smart to survive.

Then I remember about yesterday, when I saw the practice match between Shiratorizawa and Iwanuma. I’m sure Shirabu’s ability as a setter is below Kageyama’s level, but he consistently gave satisfying tosses. Ushijima’s tall with an amazing vertical jump, so Shirabu gave him a high toss to match everything, in addition to his left-handedness. Goshiki’s slightly weaker and shorter than Ushijima, so Shirabu gave him a lower toss. Reon needed a toss that’s way up above the net, so Shirabu delivered. Regrettably, Hinata is nowhere near Ushijima, Goshiki, and Shirabu.

“Kage, truthfully, with our current state… Let’s not talk big about winning the nationals—I don’t think we can win against Aoba Jousai or even Shiratorizawa. I understand Hinata’s struggles with that. He might not express it clearly, but there must be a part of him that’s still guilty over what happened during Interhigh,” I remind Kageyama about something that’s still fresh in our memory. Last June, only a month ago, Hinata’s final spike was blocked by Aoba Jousai, scoring for their next stage of dream and shattering ours. We all cried, it hurt our chest so badly, but Hinata must’ve suffered the most because he felt responsible for it.

“Yes, so what do you think of Ukai-san’s idea?” Once again, Kageyama stares intensively into my eyes. I’m very flattered to see him trusting me so much and choosing me among the others. If I will tell him to give up, will he give up? If I will tell him to loosen up and give whatever Hinata wants, will he do it? But I’m not playing around here.

“Last Sunday, I actually told my mother about this. She apparently watched our first set with Aoba Jousai. She praised you, saying that you’re the one who brings the best out of Hinata, which is legit.” My words flinch Kageyama’s expression—there’s proud and a slight tint of disbelief there. “She then told me that Hinata is unpredictable, so we should leave him for a week or two, then he’ll definitely comeback with something.”

There’s a long pause before Kageyama innocently tilts his round head to his right. “And what does that mean?”

“You should try to make this work and Hinata will follow up. That’s what I believe.”

There’s another long pause before Kageyama nods in a slow motion. “Right. I’ll make it work.”

“Good.” I smile widely and optimistically. “Anyway, did Oikawa do something else to you? It’s not like him to give free advice without asking for something back.”

My question results in Kageyama’s grimace. “Yeah. I bowed down to him because at first, he didn’t want to listen to me. Then he told his nephew—who was with him—to take a picture of him standing and doing a peace sign in front of me.”

I lift my eyebrows, my voice’s squeaky. “While you’re still bowing?”

“Yes.”

There’s no question needed why I’m angry, why I’m feeling like I want to ram my strongest spike right on the back of Oikawa’s head. What he did to Kageyama was childish and degrading. I won’t say that Kageyama’s faultless because at least, he should’ve not stooped so low and let Oikawa did as he pleased, but I can’t accept what Oikawa did to my black-haired baby. Just see. I promise to all beings on Earth, one day I’m going to pay him back, even worse than this.

* * *

The last set of the practice match ends just a little bit after six p.m. Together with Yachi, I wash all the bottles under the sink in front of the gym, only to fill it again for the upcoming individual practices. Both of us will stay until seven thirty or so, while Kiyoko has to go home because of some family businesses. It’s not a big loss because two managers are always more than enough to maintain the mess of merely twelve members. Now I think of Shiratorizawa who has sixty members without a single manager. If they were to have one and she’s as meek as Yachi, then I doubt she would live to see another day. It must be exhausting.

Before everyone scatters apart to do their own thing, Sawamura tells us that he has been given the permission from the girls’ volleyball club’ captain to use their first gym until closing time. Everyone then starts to find their own space by discussing to each other. Azumane and Nishinoya will practice privately with me in the second gym, while the first gym—the bigger one—will be used by the others. I heard Ukai and the rest of the third and second years will attempt to execute a brand new technique called “synchronized attack”, Kageyama will try on his new toss, Hinata will strengthen his quicks, Yamaguchi will go to Shimada, and I know nothing about Kei’s plan.

“How long will you practice with Azumane-san?” Before I have the chance to ask Kei about himself, he has had the initiative to come to me first, just right after I drop a heavy brown water bottle holder near the doorway of the second gym. Yamaguchi waits solemnly behind him, always like a chick and its mother.

“Until everyone’s done, just like the normal time,” I answer fixedly. “Are you going home now?”

He looks hesitant, but not for long before I hear a tired breath coming out of his nose. “Yeah, I’m not going to wait for another two hours.”

And I don’t expect him to. Usually, he’ll wait for ten or fifteen minutes for me to finish cleaning up the gym and that’s already something, concerning how he’s easily irritated, unkind, and troublesome. Probably the only way to make him wait for more than that is if I cry—which I’ll never do because I’m a prideful lady—or if I’ll offer him a million yen—which I don’t have and will never do either.

“Tsukishima, it’s okay, I’ll bring her to the train station,” Azumane—who idles near the net—suggests with both hands swaying loosely in the air. I know he’s trying to convince Kei that nothing’s wrong going to happen to me, but I’m not entirely content with that resolve. Hence, I gaze at Kei and give him a hoping face.

“But Kei, don’t you want to practice more? Maybe try to receive Azumane-san’s spikes? You know, your receive is still pretty weak. That way we can go home—”

“No, thank you. We’ve practiced enough for today and please don’t speak as if I’m addicted to going home with you. Take a note, I’m happy to be alone without someone blabbering too much about useless things. Good evening,” Kei fiercely interrupts my words. Without any consent to wait for my retort, he walks out of the gym. Before following, Yamaguchi takes a glimpse at my face and I can tell that he feels terrible of how Kei brushed me off that way, but what can he do about that? Scold Kei? As if.

“And what did he gain from saying that to you?” A moment after, Nishinoya protests. I glance at him who sit on the floor roughly a meter behind Azumane while doing some wide-stretching for his short legs.

“It’s okay. He didn’t mean any of that.” That sounds a lot as though I’m a masochist, but that’s not the case. I know Kei actually cares about me and that’s why he bothered himself to ask when will my practice be done. Even if he’s my husband, I’ll let him go if he doesn’t want to wait for that long. Sure, I’ll be sad, but I understand well enough that two hours isn’t the same as twenty minutes.

“You know, I’m so jealous of Tsukishima because he has you all for himself. Not that I hold a romantic feeling toward you, but you’re such a great person. I’d be very thankful if you’re my closest friend,” Nishinoya says as he rises from his position, with a little hop that’s akin to a kangaroo. “Okay, let’s practice!”

I no longer react to the topic about Kei as I move my feet closer to Azumane. I bring him to the end line of the court—where there’s a cart full of balls—while Nishinoya relocate himself on the other side of us, where there are five to seven balls lying abandoned on the ground. At first, I don’t really know what the latter’s going to do, but once I see him holding one ball and tossing it gawkily against the gym’s wall, I know that he’s trying to master a libero toss.

“Good luck, Noya-san!” I shout him a kick-start. He doesn’t look over his shoulder as he’s dedicating his entire focus to the ball above, but I get back a deafening “yeah”. That makes me smile broadly. In the back of my mind, I wish Kei would also be that passionately toward me, toward volleyball, toward everything.

Then I avert back to Azumane. I interrogate him with several questions and he explains that of course he has tried several jump serves in the past, but most of them were either out or didn’t even reach the opponent’s side. If he could make it work, it’d be pure luck, a one in a million chance. In jump serves, the player has to limit their step before the service line and at the same time, jump to smash the ball with their dominant hand. Azumane can maintain the footing, but fail to concentrate on maneuvering the ball.

“Okay. Please show me your jump serve so I can see what’s wrong with your form,” I order Azumane to perform me the best he can. He doesn’t think twice to agree and grab a ball from the cart. Meanwhile, I tiptoe fives times backward to provide him enough space and to save myself from any accident. My eyes are stuck on his upper body, especially his right arm.

Inhaling a hollow breath, Azumane throws up the ball on his right hand, jumps three steps onward, and leap above, to hit the sphere with the same hand. He’s so powerful that it results in an extremely loud “bang” sound—the same as when I heard Ushijima’s spike. The major difference is, Ushijima has more control and experience on doing what’s he’s doing. Just like Azumane has reminded me, his ball strikes the net and lands inside of our court’s side. That means, we lose the point.

“Azumane-san, you’re only putting force on your palm, you should’ve put it on your entire arm.” I raise my right arm and tap the area around my triceps. “First thing first, have in mind that you need to make the ball goes onto the other side. Whether it’s out or no, we can work on it later.”

Azumane nods speedily. He goes back to his previous position before taking another ball from the cart with both hands. Not to exaggerate, but I catch fire in his eyes as he does exactly what I told him to. The ball no longer hits the net, it flies to the other side of the court and indeed, it’s out. Way out of the end line, although there’s still a good one or two meters before it blows out the skull of our small libero. I’m not startled at all when Azumane clicks his tongue vociferously as he stomps his way back again.

“It’s okay. It’s still very rough around the edges, but practice makes perfect,” I motivate him.

“Yes! One more time!”

I grin like a Cheshire cat while folding my arms tightly. I know many people look down at our ace’s weak-mindedness. He can be easily overwhelmed by the smallest problem. He has so many concerns that are good for nothing. He’s nothing compared to other great aces that I’ve met, but it’s like saying everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. One thing that I have to applaud is how he understands that his grand title comes with a great burden. Instead of beating himself up because of the pressure given by those who are stronger, he’s inspired by them. That’s an excellent trait everyone should bear.

* * *

“I wish I could get more than six…”

It has been five minutes since I leave the school to be on my way to the train station with Nishinoya and Azumane beside me, yet the latter hasn’t stopped whining about his failure. Both my and Nishinoya’s response have always been the same—we tell him that we’re all progressing and if we keep polishing ourselves, then everything will be okay in the end. Still, it doesn’t subdue his worry. It feels as if the more we try to reassure him, the more he takes that as meaningless words just so he’ll shush.

I look up to the sky above the three of us. There’s a waxing crescent moon—or some people might call it as a young moon. I don’t memorize the lunar calendar, but even though I don’t find this one as beautiful as the round full moon, it’s still mesmerizing because of the countless stars surrounding it. I really love this time of the day. I can just lie on a hill and spend hours watching the sparks move to their next phase.

“It reminds you of Tsukishima?”

My eyes flicker to Nishinoya who stands directly on my right. “What?”

“The moon. You keep looking at it like you’re missing Tsukishima.” Nishinoya wears a perky face with his mouth stretches wide, presenting his collection of well-kept white teeth. Azumane who’s on his right gives me an interested face as well.

“No, I don’t miss him,” I plainly deny any misinterpreted theories in Nishinoya’s murky mind. He and Tanaka are the ones who constantly tease me and Kei at any occasion. After that, we have the rest of the second years. The third and first years sometimes only giggle absurdly, but that’s it. Well, at least Kiyoko, Yachi, Ukai, and Takeda don’t do the same.

“But I’m actually wondering about that too… You are so attached to each other, but aren’t dating…” At last Azumane changes his topic from being dejected, albeit it doesn’t delight me. “Do you like him?”

“Romantically?” I frown. “No way.”

“Really?” As expected, Nishinoya follows the conversation up with his childlikeness, by squealing and moving his eyebrows up and down rapidly. What’s exactly his purpose of doing that?

“Really,” I set the record straight.

“Really?” His voice gets higher and higher.

“…just think whatever you want.” I nonchalantly surrender and for whatever reason, that reply gave Nishinoya some sort of euphoria, shown by how he cackles elatedly. Correction to that, it’s more like I gave him ecstasy. I’m glad to have the calm Azumane as a neutralizer around here. If no, then the situation could escalate too quickly into a vexing one.

The thing between me and Kei is too complicated to be elaborated. I don’t hate him, but I don’t feel the huge urge to kiss his lips or to be in a deeper relationship than this. There were some moments where I shivered throughout my body, from my neck down to the toes, but those only occurred when he out of the blue did sweet things to me. We’ve known each other for more than three months and the total amount of times when he did that is less than five. It’s ultra-rare.

“The thing about Kei is… I’m not proud of him.” My voice breaks the brief silent of the night. “I’m not going to date him because it’s impossible for me to be in love with someone that I’m not proud of.”

I’m not surprised when a questionable look is projected by Nishinoya and Azumane. It’s even funny to see them simultaneously slant their head to their right, as if they’re puppets controlled by the same fingers.

“It’s… If someone will ask me ‘are you proud of Nishinoya and Azumane?’, I’ll say yes. Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi… I’m proud of all of them and everyone else in the team,” I let out what’s on my mind swiftly and carefully. “But if they ask me ‘are you proud of Tsukishima?’, I have to say no.”

For the next thirty seconds or so, what I get is a perfect soundlessness. Both Nishinoya and Azumane are no longer looking at me. The former gazes to the empty long street ahead, while the latter ducks his head to face the gravel road beneath. If I didn’t know what’s on their mind, I’d ask, but I do know. More to that, I’m aware that everyone else feels the same way about Kei. Not only me, Nishinoya, or Azumane. Everyone does. We’re teammates who spend hour after hour everyday, so obviously, that comes off naturally.

“It’s true that he’s very aloof. If only he could pull himself together, then he would be very efficient for our team,” Nishinoya speaks up, although his stance doesn’t alter much.

“Yeah,” Azumane adds. His timbre doesn’t have enough substance for me to decipher the meaning behind it, but I suppose he too feels what a waste of Kei behaving that way and neglecting everything’s bestowed gracefully upon him. His brain, his height, his focus—everything.

“I’m waiting for the moment when I can tell everyone that I’m very proud of him. Pathetic to admit, but I don’t think it’ll ever happen.” I end my sentence with a gloomy chuckle. My eyes fixate back at the sky, now particularly at the moon and I can’t help but to think of Kei. Despite how my mouth declares to the world that I don’t expect him to do something praiseworthy, my heart—one thing that will never lie—can’t stop wishing upon the stars for it to happen.

Yes, I would probably smile the brightest on that day.

* * *

After sending my thank you and waving both of my hands to Nishinoya and Azumane, I hop into one of the trains that just arrived in the station. Normally, we have to wait for people in the inside to come out before it’s our turn to come in, but it’s night-time in a small town. There are always less than ten passengers throughout the entire journey, including me.

I sit down on the seat right next to the entrance where I walked in. Simple to say that this is precisely my usual spot with Kei. If there’s someone already occupying it, then we’ll just switch to the opposite seats. We like this place because of how easy it is for us to get out. The air conditioner is also right around the area, so there’s just no valid points to hate it.

And when I place my bag on the empty space to my right, I realize that this is the first time I’ve ever been alone in the train within the past two months or so. Kei’s warm existence has turned into a dead object. I’ll keep practicing with Azumane until the summer training camp. That’s eight days later, two Saturdays and Sundays are not counted. Oh, but I’m unsure if Kei will also go home with me on Saturday because there’s a big probability for us doing another individual practice after the scheduled one. That means, we won’t be going home together for ten days, instead of eight.

Wait, why am I even counting?

I have to do something somewhat productive, so I unzip my bag and take out my phone from the inside. After seeing some LINE notifications sent by some random accounts, I swipe the screen to unlock it and click on the LINE app. I raise my eyebrows as Ushijima’s habitual messages aren’t the only things I got. Kei has also chatted me around twenty minutes ago. I’m shocked because we don’t contact each other outside of the school, unless if it’s menacing. It’s so odd for me to get used to Ushijima’s name on my screen, more than Kei or anyone else that I know.

 _ Kei _  
_Don’t sleep recklessly in the train, it’s only 5 minutes of trip 7:52 PM_  
_What are you? A sloth? 7:52 PM  
_

From the main menu, LINE will only display the very first sentence of the chat, therefore I was thrilled and honored to get a “Don’t sleep recklessly in the train, it’s only 5 minutes of trip” from someone cold like Kei. It’s lovely, caring, warm, and there are many more positive sentences that I can’t put into words. That’s the sole reason why I ignored Ushijima to open this glasses-wearing message first. Unfortunately, my expectation plummeted down like Lucifer after I read him calling me a sloth.

 _Me_  
_ 8:12 PM You care?  
_

_Kei_  
_Shut up, big-head. I was just warning you not to be an idiot 8:12 PM  
_

His mean words don’t hide the fact of how he types back as fast as the light and I unconsciously giggle all by myself. Seriously, I’m very lucky that there aren’t many people around me, thus if I do unexplainable things while staring at my phone, no one will perceive me as a girl who’s being possessed by an evil spirit.

_ Me _   
_ 8:12 PM But you care and that’s why you’re chatting me_   
_ 8:13 PM Tsundere :3_

_Kei_  
_Just strangulate yourself between doors and die 8:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_8:13 PM_ _  
_

_Kei_  
_K 8:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:13 PM K? Kei? Okay? Which one?  
_

_Kei_  
_This conversation is getting nowhere and irrelevant 8:13 PM_  
_I’m sleeping, bye 8:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:13 PM But Kei, you should’ve been here_  
_8:14 PM_   

I swear I was being no less than sweet, but this heartless bastard only reads my chat. Well, not that I’m incredibly surprised by it. He does this nine out of ten times and we barely even chat.

Right away, I close Kei’s chat to move to Ushijima’s abundant words that I received seven hours ago, just before I left my house for a train ride to school. I haven’t opened LINE since yesterday, solely because I didn’t feel the urge to. I know, previously I would always keep a good eye on the aforementioned app, checking on Ushijima’s reply after I woke up, during breakfast, on my way to or from Karasuno, before and after the club activity,  and some more. I know, previously I wouldn’t want to make him wait for that long. Today, I just didn’t feel like it was that necessary to keep him company.

Okay. Fine, I admit.

In all honesty, there’s maybe a part of me that’s still holding a tiny grudge toward him. Just a tiny one.

_Ushijima_  
_Are you home already? 10:41 PM_  
_I’m so sorry about today 10:41 PM  
_

That was his chat yesterday at ten forty-one p.m. I was already sleeping by then. Pretty similar to Kei’s thoughtfulness, but this one is way more genuine without any shade of  _tsundere_ -ness.

_Ushijima_  
_Washijou-sensei just informed me about Haruka-san’s schedule for this weekend 7:09 AM_  
_Will you by chance come again on Sunday? 7:09 AM  
_

And that was his chat seven hours ago, around the time of our lunch break. I take a deep breath and hurriedly write some words back. At the same time, the train closes its doors and begins to move.

 _Me_  
_ 8:14 PM Sorry I just opened my phone, I was super busy today_  
  _ 8:14 PM I heard from my mother about the schedule, but I’m sorry, I don’t want to come, Ushijima-san_  
   _8:14 PM I don’t have anything useful to do by being there_  
  _8:14 PM I think your friends don’t like it either if I barge in every single time_  
  _8:14 PM And I want to rest on Sunday  
_

_Ushijima_  
_No one complains about you being here, but I understand if you can’t come 8:15 PM  
_

A super fast reply by Ushijima. Totally foreseen by me.

 _Me_  
_ 8:15 PM Yes, I’m sorry  
_

Sequentially, I tap my thumbnails on the screen. What more? What’s the next thing should I say to him? Usually, I’d have so many questions, but now is the first time I’m being utterly clueless. Should I ask about his day? Maybe about his practice? Maybe about Goshiki? Nah, I’m too reluctant in doing anything.

_Ushijima_  
_I want to call you, but I know you’ll refuse, so I won’t ask 8:15 PM  
_

What?

I snort, as the effect of suppressing my laughter.

 _Me_  
_ 8:15 PM What?_  
_ 8:15 PM You’ve asked already_  
  _ 8:15 PM “I want to you call you, but I won’t ask it” __XD  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Oh._ _You’re right 8:15 PM  
_

My feeling toward Ushijima is indescribable. I was a bit mad, but just because of one small act, it feels as if it’s fully gone. I don’t know what sort of magic shard he uses, maybe his cuteness, maybe his inability to construct a decent sentence—which produces even more adorableness, unintentionally or not. For sure, how can I stay mad to someone like him? Even when he’s the one at fault, I’ll still melt in the end.

 _Me_  
  _ 8:15 PM Your communication skill is below level 1, Ushijima-san…  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes. I’m trying 8:15 PM  
_

I snigger. With eyes still stuck on my phone’s screen, I flop down my seat, still careful enough to intact my legs closely to each other. I always wear short legging inside under my skirt, but that doesn’t mean that I will exhibit anything by spreading open my down part, even when there’s no one around.

 _Me_  
_ 8:16 PM Call me tomorrow because right now I still can’t forgive you completely  
_

_Ushijima_  
_But you said you aren’t mad at me? 8:16 PM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 8:16 PM Yeah, but it doesn’t mean that I’ve forgiven you  
_

_Ushijima_  
_So, tomorrow you will? 8:16 PM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 8:16 PM Tomorrow I will  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Really? 8:16 PM  
_

It’s uncanny how the first thing I visualize is him having a pair of dog ears that go up and a fluffy dog tail that wiggles side to side enthusiastically.

 _Me_  
_ 8:16 PM Really  
_

_Ushijima_  
_8:16 PM_

 _Me_  
  _ 8:16 PM No one gave you permission to use that sticker ;(  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I’ll still use it _8:16 PM_  
_

_Me_  
 _ 8:16 PM Then I’ll block you_  
_8:16 PM_

_Ushijima_  
_… 8:17 PM  
_

This is the first time Ushijima has ever responded with only an ellipsis. Overall, he’s a quiet and calm person who infrequently talks, so if he’ll be delineated into a _yonkoma_ , most of his dialogues will either be “…” or “?”. He does the latter many times already, but today is the former’s debut. I should congratulate him for that, if only he’d understand.

 _Me_  
_ 8:17 PM I’m just kidding!_  
_ 8:17 PM Do whatever you want!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay 8:17 PM_  
_Tendou and Semi want your LINE ID, so c_ _an I give it to them? 8:17 PM  
_

He grasps and takes advantage of my permission as soon as possible, eh?

 _Me_  
_ 8:17 PM Sure_  
_ 8:17 PM It’s okay to give it to those who ate together with me yesterday, but tell them to not give it to anyone else  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay 8:17 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:17 PM Promise?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_What promise? 8:17 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:17 PM To only give it to those people and pass my message to them?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Promise 8:17 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:17 PM If you break it, you’ll have to do 1000 jump serves  
_

_Ushijima_  
_There’s no way I’ll be able to do that 8:17 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:17 PM You’re Ushijima Wakatoshi_  
_ 8:18 PM I bet you’ve done 100 jump serves many times before  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes, b_ _ut by the time I have to serve the 101st, I’ll be like this: 8:18 PM_  
_8:18 PM_

I chuckle effortlessly as it’s inevitable for me to block my imagination from picturing Ushijima doing exactly what the sticker does. I even need to look at my own reflection on the train window in front of me, just to make sure that my face doesn’t turn red, out of amusement.

 _Me_  
_ 8:18 PM How about 1000 jump serves in 10 batches?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_? 8:18 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:18 PM 100 jump serves > rest for 30 minutes > 100 jump serves > rest for 30 minutes_  
_8:18 PM_ _x10  
_

_Ushijima_  
_8:18 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 8:18 PM Stop using that sticker! XD_  
_ 8:18 PM I’m laughing  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I’ll keep using it if that’ll make you laugh 8:18 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:18 PM Well, that’ll be boring then?_  
_ 8:18 PM I’m not laughing anymore :x  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay, then I won’t use it anymore 8:18 PM  
_

What a simple guy.

 _Me_  
_ 8:18 PM My version_  
8:19 PM

_Ushijima_  
_That reminds me of Saitou-sensei when he’s drunk 8:19 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:19 PM Oh, your other coach?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes, last December, he drank some alcohol from the instructor room and fell on the gym while widening his eyes and doing that flapping motion with his hands 8:19 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:19 PM Interesting_  
_ 8:19 PM Do you have any video of that?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Sadly, no 8:19 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:19 PM “Sadly”  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes, I wouldn’t mind saving the video for entertainment purposes 8:19 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 8:19 PM What?_  
_ 8:19 PM You can be cheeky, Ushijima-san XD  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Cheeky? Is that bad? 8:19 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 8:19 PM No, it’s okay_  
_ 8:20 PM I just didn’t assume that you would think that way_  
_ 8:20 PM I thought you would yell at those who wanted to record him_

 _ Ushijima _  
_? 8:20 PM_  
_Okay? 8:20 PM  
_

“Attention, ladies and gentleman, we’ll be arriving shortly at Senzuma station. Please make sure that you don’t leave any belongings behind. Attention, ladies and—”

I straighten my position after hearing the tenor sound of the male announcer. It has been a while since I listened to the arrival announcement from the very beginning as I would always carelessly sleep and Kei was the one who had the duty of waking me up. What I know now is I only have to count until ten before my train will stop and I have to stand up to leave through the automatic door. For this reason, I have to notify Ushijima.

 _Me_  
  _8:20 PM_ _I’ll arrive at my train stop soon_  
  _ 8:20 PM I’ll be away for a moment  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Stay safe._ _Watch your step 8:20 PM  
_

I wish he could see how big my smile is at the moment, all because of his kindness.

 _Me_  
_ 8:20 PM Thank you_  
  _ 8:20 PM I’ll chat you again soon :)  
_


	21. Two Is Better Than One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a long pause before I receive a heartfelt reply, “Do I make you happy?”
> 
> “Uh? Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m more than happy. Thank you so much,” I mumble incoherently. He might be able to notice my rosy cheeks, but I don’t mind that at all.
> 
> “That’s good. I’m also happy. Better than last week.”
> 
> I chuckle unnaturally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heiho!
> 
> The reason why the update took a week rather than the usual 3-4 days interval is because… did I say the second last chapter was the longest chapter ever?  
> Uh-oh, this chapter is 9,5k+ or the equivalent of 2 chapters of my average-length. I couldn’t cut it properly in half because it’s one package. (?)
> 
> And why does it need a lot of words? Because… every sweet little gesture of Ushibaka-chan SHOULD be described in detail. Yay!
> 
> Important!  
> \- Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

I recline lazily on the center part of a three-seater cream sofa in my living room. My legs are stretched forward until they rest on top of a square umber coffee table, with the right one props on the left. There’s a small rectangle red box in my left hand, the words “Pocky” and “Chocolate” are stamped in white on the front cover of it, while my right fingers keep pulling out a chocolate-coated biscuit stick from the ripped wrapper inside. One by one I munch, most of the time it’s three at once because time is too precious to be wasted—but okay, that’s probably just my alibi to devour this deliciousness as fast as I can.

To my left, lie two empty packages of the same Pocky flavor. To my right, there’s one sealed package of a pink Pocky—which obviously is a strawberry flavor—a bottle of a half-full green tea, and a black remote control of the fifty inches TV that’s turned on, approximately three meters in front of me. It broadcasts an adult drama about a mafia war with a heavy aspect of love triangle. For some dumb reasons, the main female protagonist doesn’t know that her husband is a mafia boss and she cheats with a guy that’s apparently another mafia boss and also, his husband’s number one archenemy. I’m watching this simply to kill time for ten minutes before it changes to the next school life drama, which I’ve been waiting for.

I snap another piece of chocolate Pocky with my incisors when the home phone in the main hall of my house rings ear-splittingly. As I finish all the left bites in one go and stand up, I catch a glimpse of the round silver clock on the wall, just above the TV. It’s almost five p.m. and currently there’s no one in house besides myself. My father was here until one p.m. before he had to leave for his university, while my mother has gone since before I woke up at ten a.m. I’m home alone all the time and I often get phone calls from my parents’ colleagues, so I adept at speaking correctly to them.

Without waiting any longer, I run to the only door of this living room, which brings me instantly to the long hall that connects many rooms of my house. Excluding the living room, there’s the kitchen and the dining room, the entryway, the bathroom, the backyard, and last but not least, the stair to the second floor. The ringing throughout the house gets too giddy for my brain to handle, thus I rush my way to take a good hold of the phone placed on a long wooden table and press it against my right ear.

“Hello,” I greet sweetly.

“Hey, can you do something for me?”

My eyebrows twitch once I hear my mother’s voice. Not only that, I also perceive thundering sounds of young boys roaring at each other like they’re snow monkeys in a jungle or something. Given the fact that I know her schedule, I also know that my mother is now in Shiratorizawa, but even if I didn’t know, I would still figure it out because of Tendou. That red-haired guy is blessed by a squawking voice that’s so distinctive, even from far beyond.

“Tell me what it is first.” I sound unwelcoming and I do feel impassive when it comes to my mother.

“I left my—”

“No,” I interrupt because I know how she would finish her sentence. “I’m not going to Shiratorizawa.”

“What’s with that answer?! How dare you?! Don’t be impolite to your own mother! This is urgent! Listen for a moment!”

I breathe a sigh full of despair. True, everyone who doesn’t know me will deduce my action as nothing less than a daughter being rude, childish, ungrateful, and so forth toward her own mother. They don’t know how many times my mother has used me whenever she pleases. They don’t know how unpleasant it is to keep showing up at a school that I don’t even belong to. I want to believe Ushijima when he said that no one gets disturbed by my existence. I know most of his teammates are kind-hearted, but I also know my mother will force me to stay there longer than I should. What must I do after? Serving the boys drinks and towels? I volunteer myself to help my own team in Karasuno and that’s it.

“I left the application forms for the third years in my bedroom. It’s inside a red folder. Just bring the whole fol—”

“Kaa-san! I’m not going there! You say you always pass by Shiratorizawa when you go to work, so just bring it with you tomorrow!” I squeak my frustration out and cut the call off. If I were a tad stronger, I might’ve smashed the cordless phone into pieces. Say whatever she wants to say about me to everyone in Shiratorizawa, I won’t mind. At least Goshiki will understand my pain and that’s fair enough.

I turn around with the intention to head back to the living room, but before I even progress a step, the phone behind me rings again. I click my tongue and glare at the said object over my shoulder, as if the one who’s calling me now is a debt-collector who also plays the role of my possessive and abusive ex-husband. Should I just ignore it? But it’s annoying because my ears can clearly hear and it’ll bother me watching my drama. Should I just unplug the battery? Yes, that must be the best solution.

But fine, whatever. For this time only, I’ll pick it up again. The sole reason is just because I’m patient enough to beg my mother to stop in a nice way. Because of this only, someone should’ve granted me the award of _Strongest Female Warrior Alive_  or something.

“Come here.”

I shudder when I hear another voice—the one that I just thought about a second ago—but God knows I won’t falter. “Shiki-chan, tell my mother that using you is pointless. That won’t work anymore.”

Funny how that sentence carries me back the many awful memories from around two to three years ago. After learning how close I was to Goshiki, my mother would often use him to talk me into doing something for her, from shopping groceries supply for a month to baking and decorating holiday cookies from scratch. She knew that Goshiki was such a dear friend to me, thus I would always listen to his requests, even when it’s almost impossible for me to fulfil. Goshiki was also at fault for listening to her, but well, we were all dumb and naïve when we were younger.

“No, she said…” Goshiki pauses his words and I can hear some feminine hisses around. Without the need to ask, I know that the voice belongs to no other than my mother. Without the ability to distinguish her words, I know that most likely she’s guiding Goshiki on what to say to me next. This absurdity makes me roll my eyes so hard.

“What is it? My drama will begin soon, so hurry up,” I demand a quick answer without any unnecessary rambling. They should’ve known that what they’re doing now is futile. I won’t change my mind even if they bribe me with the most succulent steak or the best cut of diamond in the world. Usually I’d fall for something sparkly like that, but there’s literally nothing they can do to make me move my feet out of this house and go to Shiratorizawa. Nothing.

“What? Hahaha! She hasn’t gotten that after all this time?!” Goshiki chortles lively that it’s so condescending and endearing at the same time. “Hello? Haruka-san said that if you come here, she promises she’ll buy you a cat tomorrow.”

A cat?

I widen my eyes as my heart skips a beat. If I don’t have enough self-control, I might fall down on my knees and cry because of this abrupt struck of overwhelming waves of happiness right into my chest. I don’t exaggerate. I’ve been waiting for those words for ten years now. Even though it’s not directly from my mother’s very own lips, the effect is still powerful.

“But wait, but why is she going until this far…?” I try the best to bring my sanity back. I smell something very fishy, but I don’t want to be too pushy to the point that I’ll anger my mother and make her rethink her decision. There are so many conflicted cords inside of my brain, as a result of how often she plays around with my feeling. In short, I always have zero idea on what she’ll do next.

“I don’t know. Just come here.”

“Um… Don’t you feel weird, Shiki-chan…? Why would she suddenly buy me a cat if I go to Shiratorizawa? This doesn’t sound credible enough… But, but, she won’t break her promise, right?” I’m still doubtful because this pattern has been going on for quite some time. She’ll make me all salivating with one million words of honor, then before the D-day, she’ll laugh and say that everything’s just a joke, leaving me stoned like an idiot for trusting her.

But we’re talking about cats. Since I was a kid, she has always refused getting me any pets, even if she has to pay zero cent—by that, I mean I could get those germ-free stray cats strolling on the street around our house. Her arguments go from the possibility of me suddenly being too half-hearted to take care of them all by myself, them being smelly, their hair falling apart too easily, grooming them being complicated to the normalcies of how they can puke, bleed, or defecate anywhere they want.

First of all, cats aren’t that disgusting. Their hair falls less than mine, as long as we feed them healthy food and regularly brush them, bathe them, and bring them to a veterinarian. We can always teach them to use a litter box and most cats from a certified pet store, shelter, or ranch are already taught how to do basic things like that. Second, when something unpredictable happens, no one will put us in jail if we call a special service to mend everything for us. As if my parents don’t have enough money to pay for that. Even if they don’t want to, I can always use my own saving.

“We’ll do something if she can’t keep her promise,” Goshiki reassures me.

He’s right. My mother declares this in front of the whole Shiratorizawa team. If she doesn’t keep her words, I’m sure they won’t mind to become my left hand men when I come to confront my mother. Ten people are more effective and maddening than one person.

“Hime-chan! Can you hear me?! Please come here! We all miss you!” And Tendou follows up by yelling within unknown radius. Yes, I can hear him. He can be in another gym and I—a person who’s on the other side of the phone—will always be able to hear him crystal clear.

I huff before finally, I give Goshiki my answer, “I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

* * *

I step out of the bus that just drove me from the train station to Shiratorizawa’s nearest bus stop. The darkness surrounding doesn’t compliment my short-sleeved orange shirt and long gainsboro jeans. Maybe I should’ve chosen a colder color, but it’s my habit to just grab whichever I want. It’s not like I’ll attend a party, so why bother? Aside from the simple attire, there’s a plain black sunglasses framing my eyes. I’m going to somewhere far from my safe haven and it’s near Sendai, a big town. There were many people entering and leaving the train I used, so I just wanted to minimize the chance of meeting intrusive reporters from _Monthly Volleyball_ or any other sports media.

According to the memories I bear and the red-painted cinema far on my south, I just have to walk onward for three minutes before I’ll arrive in Shiratorizawa. As I begin my momentary journey, I tighten my left hand that holds a thin red folder full of all the papers my mother needs. My right hand crawls inside the narrowness of my jeans’ pocket and I pull out my phone from there. Although the overall neighborhood is always far from being crowded, there are some people walking around me—mostly are the ones from the cinema. Hence, I don’t have to worry about getting robbed. As long as I walk guardedly on the sidewalk, I’ll be safe.

I relocate my sunglasses up when I see some new LINE notifications from my club’s group, received only a minute ago when I was busy preparing myself to leave the bus. There’s no a meaning behind my doing. I just want to finally look at my screen in their real color, not filtered in vintage. I swipe and tap on my phone’s screen until it displays me the whole LINE app. Apparently, I too get a personal chat from Azumane and because the amount of his chat is ten times less than the group’s, it’s a no brainer for me to check on it first.

 _ Azumane _  
_Are you busy?_  
_Sorry if it’s too sudden, but you know on Sunday I normally help my uncle in his garage, but today he closed it earlier (usually it’s at 10) 5:53 PM_  
_So if you’re available, can we maybe practice in the gym now? 5:53 PM_  
_But please don’t if you can’t 5:54 PM  
_

I grimace. Is this for real?

The trip from my house to Shiratorizawa approximately took thirty minutes with all the trains and buses. No one was available to humor me, so I spent the entire time playing random games until my phone was burning. I couldn’t fall asleep because Kei wasn’t around to prevent me from missing the right stop. I understand, sometimes I’m too dependent to him, but what I’m trying to say right now is what a beautiful timing for Azumane to ask me after I’m here. It’s not his mistake, though. It’s my mother.

 _Me_  
_ 5:54 PM I can, but I’m still out with my mother_  
_ 5:54 PM I’ll arrive at school in an hour I think_  
_ 5:54 PM Is that okay?_

_Azumane_  
_It’s okay! Thank you very much! 5:54 PM_  
_I’ve asked in the group as well 5:54 PM_  
_In case you don’t want to read because it’s too much, Nishinoya and Tanaka will come :) 5:54 PM  
_

_ Me _   
_ 5:54 PM Hahaha yeah thank you for the info XD_   
_ 5:55 PM It’s almost 6 now_   
_ 5:55 PM I’ll be there at 7, max_   
_ 5:55 PM Until how long do you want to practice?_

_Azumane_  
_The school’s gate will be closed at 10, but I think until 9 is the best option _ 5:55 PM__  
_Tomorrow we still have school _ 5:55 PM_  
_

True, but I’m super thrilled because next week will be the last week before the one and a half months of summer holiday.

_Azumane_  
_Don’t you want to ask Tsukishima to come? _ 5:55 PM__  
_It might be too late for you, so the train will be so empty _ 5:55 PM__  
_Just out of safety, you know? _ 5:55 PM_  
_

_Me_  
  __ 5:56 PM_ Eh…_  
  __ 5:56 PM _As if he’ll fall for that reason -.-_

_Azumane_  
_Hahaha 5:56 PM_  
_Just tell him that you’re scared of going home alone 5:56 PM_  
_He won’t have the heart to refuse that! 5:56 PM  
_

Kageyama being clueless is one thing, but Azumane too? Kei has done so many inhuman deeds to me. The only time when he’ll wholeheartedly run to save me is if I tell him that I’m being tied by some criminals and left in the middle of a railway with an active train that’s only thirty seconds away from crushing my body. Even then, maybe he’ll give in at the very last moment because he thinks “ah, it’s okay, it’s too late, we’ve lost her”. All the second years are right. His personality is really that warped.

But fine, I’ll try what Azumane suggested because I’m actually a masochist-in-the-making. Look how many times have I let my unsteady second-thought control my action? Just before, it was about the phone call from my mother. Now it’s about asking Kei. I should’ve possessed a more stable attitude of mind. Whatever, what I have to do now is to say be right back to Azumane and move to Kei’s chat. Our last conversation is precisely five days ago or last Tuesday, when he only read my chat after telling me not to sleep recklessly in the train.

 _Me_  
_ 5:56 PM Kei?_

I feel unharmed for not expecting any fast reply because I certainly don’t get one. Maybe Kei’s in the middle of fighting dragons in his dreamland and he’s sleeping this early because he’s too tired from studying too hard, even when the summer holiday is coming. I click my tongue as hard as I can, while my right hand is tucking my phone back to my pocket. I won’t be able to stop thinking about that blond fiend. It’s amazing how I can treasure and despise someone all at the same time.

* * *

I take my sunglasses off my head as I enter the sixth gym of Shiratorizawa. I see the same thirteen faces as last week, excluding Ushijima and Shirabu. Reon and Semi stand on the left sideline of the gym, near a collection of four blue chairs or across the entrance where I am now. My mother is right around the net with Tendou and Kawanishi, probably giving them some advice about blockings. Goshiki and Yamagata lay themselves on the floor, with some other substitutes whose names I don’t remember. By looking at the bottles and white towels around them, I know that they’re currently taking a water stop.

“Excuse me.” It’s kind of uncomfortable when my voice grabs everyone’s attention, so I focus my sight solely at my mother as I walk closer to her.

“Hime-chan, nice seeing you with your hair down!” Tendou shouts one sentence that can be both considered as a praise and merely a statement. People outside my house barely see me without my high ponytail. I only need one hand to count how many times I’ve let my hair down during my school time in Karasuno—or in other word, for the past three and a half months.

“Thank you, Tendou-san.” Regardless the real meaning, I accept Tendou with a smile as I give the folder in my left hand to my mother. “Kaa-san, here.”

“That wasn’t hard, was it?” My mother takes the folder with her eyes glued into mine then down to the sunglasses wrapped loosely by my right fingers. “Geeez, when will you move on from your past?”

 _At least I don’t wear hat and jacket anymore._ I defend myself, but only in my own mind. Usually, I would go full camouflage by wearing hat, jacket, and sunglasses. I omit the first item. I don’t plan to use the second one because of the weather, but the third one is my only exception. I’m not ready to be outside thoughtlessly. I don’t know when I’ll be ready, maybe I need another year to heal.

“Hey, you should’ve at least said hi to us.”

I jerk up when Reon’s manly voice is directly behind me. I don’t have to incline my body to any spesific angle because he has positioned himself to my left, then Semi to my right. I need to be respectful to avoid any trouble, so I smile and greet the rest of them, only a moment before Goshiki and Yamagata join us in circle. To sum up the situation I’m in, let’s just say that I’m surrounded by Ushijima’s main gang and I look like an awkward dwarf. Even my mother is tall enough to be identified as one of them.

“Congratulations on having a new cat.” Semi who stands on my north grin while folding his arms in such a cool-senpai manner that generates me yet another heart palpitation.

“Though I still don’t understand why the requirement for me to get a new cat is if I’d go here…” I mumble the truth.

“Oh, stop grumbling! At least you’ll get one!” My mother glares terrifyingly at me.

“Haruka-chan, don’t be that mean!” Tendou raises both his eyebrows and hands in amazement—either amazed by how verbally abusive my mother is or how patient I can become. I’m just not in the right mood to retort. I also understand that we’re not in our own house, where I can howl a bunch of stuff without getting ashamed.

“Anyway, where’s Ushijima-san and Shirabu-san?” I enunciate every word carefully to make sure that everyone also hears Shirabu’s name. I don’t want to increase any suspicion of why I’m personally looking for Ushijima, although maybe I might want to see him. It just feels unnatural for him not to be here when I’m here. It’s not an absolute yearning. It’s just a maybe and a might.

I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore.

“They’re going to the minimarket nearby. They’ll be back soon,” Semi answers promptly. His grin turns into this familiar warm smile.

“I see… but, um… I have to go to Karasuno now,” I say and I’m sort of flattered when it gains negative reactions. Tendou, Semi, and Reon are totally surprised. Goshiki, Yamagata, and even Kawanishi are slightly surprised—these three are so adorable that I want to hug them and never let go.

“Liar,” my mother instantly accuses me.

I sigh, not wanting to amuse her by getting insulted or whatnot. “I’m having a practice. If you don’t believe it, you can call Takeda-sensei now.”

“But you’re a manager. Given the time, it won’t be for that long, so do you really have to go?” Reon adds to everyone’s curiosity.

I can’t explain the real story because I haven’t even told my parents that I’ve been teaching Azumane on how to do jump serve since last Tuesday. I think it’s nonessential because I don’t reckon myself as big help toward Azumane’s progression, at least not until he has a high succeess rate. I just don’t want to be proud of nothing. More to that, I don’t want to tell anyone from Shiratorizawa because it’ll spoil the fact that Azumane can’t do a jump serve but is currently learning it. It’ll benefit Karasuno more if no one knows anything then unanticipatedly, Azumane will pull off a no-touch ace. Bam! And one point for us.

“Our captain won’t come, so I have to keep an eye on those problematic young boys,” I lie fluently because that’s my talent.

“Hahaha, why are you speaking like a kindergartener teacher?” Reon asks in a comical manner. “We’ll probably let you go if you come again next week. What do you think?”

Huh?

I blink my eyes several times. It doesn’t take long before the reality hits me like a truck.

“Next week she’s going to coach here again?!” I squeak as my right index finger points at my mother.

Everyone nods indifferently, again, even Kawanishi. With all due respect, what’s with them acting as if keep begging me to come here is a weekly tradition?

“Washijou-sensei won’t be available on next Sunday because of another medical reason. He’s getting too old to coach.” My mother averts her eyes from Reon’s to mine. “You’re going to be here from four until eleven p.m., then I’ll drive you to Karasuno.”

“Wait!” I clench my fists out of rage and stare back angrily at my mother. “You’ve planned this all along, haven’t you?!”

“What? You don’t like the idea? Then it’s up to you. The train in Miyagi stops operating before eleven p.m. and your father usually won’t come home on Sunday. Good luck finding someone else to bring you to Karasuno during that time. Well, you can always wait at your school earlier than your friends. At nine or something, though I doubt anyone wants to—”

“…fine, Kaa-san, fine,” I forbid my mother from talking any further because it makes me all fuzzy. Even if I protest, I believe there will be a greater comeback from her. She’ll always find her sly way to force me into doing anything she wants, so thank me later for saving her time.

“Yay, Hime-chan will be here again!” Once more, Tendou lifts his arms up in the air. I’m not thoroughly okay with this, but his reaction makes me smile nimbly. I don’t know why he’s all excited, but I want to be positive by thinking that everyone here must enjoy my company. They surely like something about me because they’ve done nothing but sweet things, even when I whine all the times.

I cringe because that description truly sounds like an _otome_ game.

“Bring your cat here,” Semi suggests with a more amiable smile than before.

“Oh? Can I? No one has allergies, right?” My eyes scan the boys around me. I’d love to bring my cat anywhere I go, but I understand enough how it can suffocate some gifted people.

“I have pollen allergy, but cats are okay…” Kawanishi opens up. This is officially the first time our eyes meet, although not more than two seconds. I don’t know if that’s just me or he actually resembles a cat himself.

And because I don’t get any other objections, I cheerfully decide, “I’ll bring it for sure!”

* * *

After uttering some goodbyes and “see you next week”, I leave the gym while putting on my sunglasses back to where it belongs. It’s already pitch black outside, but it’s getting darker because of the shade produced by the aforementioned eyewear. Apart from that, I don’t feel frightened to bits because there are up to fifteen people scattering around me, way more than the last time I was here. Most of them are wearing colorful jerseys, so I bet they’re from other sport clubs. Shiratorizawa sure is a high school built specifically for nurturing Japan’s future athletes. It’s admirable.

When the distance between me and Shiratorizawa’s main gate is only less than five meters, Ushijima and Shirabu suddenly show themselves, turning in from the left side. I haven’t been to that way before because my road back home is if I turn to the right, so I don’t know that there’s a minimarket in that area. They seem a bit startled to meet me this way, but instead of noticing that aspect too much, my eyes fixate on two white plastic bags gripped by their hands, or four in total. They bought quite a lot of things which I can’t really spell one by one, but from the shape, I suppose there are a lot of bottled drinks.

“Good evening,” I greet them once the gap between us is only one step away.

“Good evening,” Shirabu greets me back with a redundant addition of slightly bowing to mr. Frankly speaking, I don’t feel okay with people around the same age as me lowering their body so politely. I think it’s proper if Shirabu does this to someone way older, like my mother or Washijou. Not to me who’s only a year younger than him.

“Good evening. Why are you wearing sunglasses?” It’s Ushijima’s turn to speak to me, so I look up at him, leaving Shirabu for a moment.

“No particular purposes. I just want to,” I shove him an answer of any kind, but he might know the valid one already. I remember very well when I met him at that party and he asked about why he didn’t see me during Interhigh last month. I told him that I went in disguise because I wanted to stay away from the media. Though above all, I can’t really clarify anything from his impassive demeanor.

“And what are you doing here out here?”

“I’m going to Karasuno.” I ruffle the back of my hair. “I have a sudden practice.”

“Ah…”

Ushijima looks disappointed and I bite my lower lip regrettably. This statement leads to hypocrisy, but a part of me wishes I could stay here longer because I too wanted to talk to him, Goshiki, and some more. Unfortunately, if I have to choose between Shiratorizawa and Karasuno, the answer is obvious. It can be said that my body only belongs to Karasuno and I only pour my energy into Karasuno. I have brought upon myself a duty I can’t neglect.

“Ushijima-san, I’ll go back first. Please give me your plastic bags,” Shirabu cracks through the short-lived silence. Ushijima bobs his head softly before transferring both his plastic bags to his smaller teammate. It looks a bit too heavy, but as a man of few words, Shirabu doesn’t complain at all. He simply excuses himself before continuing his narrow step to the enter the school.

Once I’m sure that he’s pretty far from the me, I lock my eyes back with Ushijima.  “Do you think he dislikes me?”

Ushijima first reaction is to frown before the words follow, “Why would he?”

“I feel like he doesn’t want to be near me…” I can be insecure of how people think about me, but I understand that it’s impossible for everyone to accept me. At first, I thought Shirabu’s just an unapproachable wall like Kawanishi, but the latter has talked to me several times while the former is still being as cold as ice. I just want to know if I’ve made a mistake, maybe my personality, maybe the way I talk, maybe something worse than that. If it’s reasonable, I can use it to change myself for the better.

“No, don’t think that way. He’s innately a distant person, until you know him better,” Ushijima comforts me, although I can’t remove this feeling with ease. “Are you going to the bus stop?”

“Yeah.” I nod for two reasons, somehow acknowledging Shirabu’s personality and confirming the question about the bus stop.

“Let’s go together.”

“Hm? Is that okay? Won’t you continue your practice soon?” I’m actually not that shocked when Ushijima offers to send me off because he has always been a caring person, but I don’t want to cause him troubles. I know my mother doesn’t mind screaming and kicking him if he does something she doesn’t appreciate.

“We’re having a break for half an hour. It’s dark, it’s not safe for you to wait for the bus alone.” Ushijima doesn’t give me any opening to oppose as his feet start to move. Fine. It’s not like I’m losing anything with him beside me, so I leap ahead to position myself on his right. I’m always having difficulties walking side by side with someone too tall because of how long their legs are. Like with Kei and my father. One step for them equals two steps for me.

Until Ushijima lowers his pace.

Previously, my eyes were riveted on my traversing unornamented dark blue slip-on, but now, once again, I look at the guy two years older than me. As expected, he has been staring at me so—if I may say—lovingly. Or I can paraphrase it that he contemplates every little piece of me, as if he wants to make sure that I don’t stumble into something or someone bumps into me. Does he realize that he’s being too sweet? Seeing his density, he might not and I can’t help but to smile.

“Will you take your sunglasses off?”

“Hm? Why?” My smile gets wider, but I wonder. “I look cooler like this, don’t I? Like a CIA agent.”

“I want to see your face.”

I part my lips away from each other. My breath caught in my throat. The way his olive eyes capture my monotone black, the way he articulates his every syllable so solemnly, the way he controls his deep tone, even the way his handsome face shrouded by the night sky. There’s something spellbinding about him than restrains my will to reject any of his requests. Could be that he’s just too precious to the point where I know, hurting him will hurt me too.

“A-ah, okay.” I take off my sunglasses, fold the arms, and keep it inside my shirt’s left pocket. As I look away to the vacant street on my left, some strands of hair fall artlessly around my temples, though I quickly stick them behind my ears. I wish I could do it as sensually as Kiyoko, but I’m well aware that I’ll never be her.

“It’s rare to see you without your ponytail,” Ushijima comments on my appearance, which basically is the same as Tendou’s.

“Hahaha. Yeah, that has always been my trademark.” I shrug nervously because the effect of Ushijima’s _I want to see your face_ still lingers.

But concerning my ponytail, my mother’s old photo albums prove that I’ve had this hairstyle since I was in kindergarten, probably because I started holding volleyball during that age. I don’t want to cut my hair short either as I love having a long hair—I feel inane for stating something so obvious, but I can’t come up with a better excuse.

“When did your bus arrive previously?” Ushijima proceeds to another topic.

“Hm… Ten minutes ago. I have to wait for some time before the next one.”

“It’s once every thirty minutes, so you have to wait for at least fifteen minutes,” Ushjima explains an information all Japanese people have known all along. “Do you like ice cream?”

Hilarious. The timing of him asking is smooth, but his choice of words is too bland for my taste. I’m sure he didn’t mean to flirt with me, but if he did, I wouldn’t consider it as the best coquetry because of how straightforward that was.

“Of course I do.” But I still genuinely get along with his quirks. Just who on earth doesn’t like ice cream? Only those who have sensitive teeth or lactose intolerance. I’m neither, therefore I’ll demolish every ice cream displayed in front of me.

“Then let’s buy one.” He uses his left arm to point at our northeast, just across the street. “That white store.”

I look at the direction he meant and mutter a soft “ah” because I don’t know how else to react. Truth be told, I can’t see any sign of that store selling ice cream and it’s all because the distance between us is way too much. If I were to wear my sunglasses, I wouldn’t even able to differenciate anything.

“They sell unique flavors, like taro, cookies and cream, black sesame,” Ushijima continues.

“Taro?” I interrupt him as I’m interested in the first flavor he mentioned. “You know, taro is one of my favorites. It tastes the best when mixed with—”

“Green tea.”

Green tea.

Right.

I cackle uncontrollably, I even have to cover my mouth because my voice’s getting too noisy for this silent neighborhood. “Correct! With green tea!”

“Hm? Why are you laughing? What’s funny?” Ushijima’s still being himself. Oblivious.

“It’s just… I think we’re more alike than I thought we were,” I respond without a hitch, just a second after I manage to completely suppress this small euphoria inside me.

“…ah.”

Seemingly, I still can’t help myself but to giggle, showing my neat and tidy teeth. Ushijima’s answer is brief, he might not smile or be expressive like me, but his face softens up and I can sense a big hint of happiness there. Isn’t he so lovely? He is very lovely.

* * *

I hope I don’t bother Ushijima when I fidget rapidly like a constipated rabbit in front of this glorious display of ice creams. Just like he said, there are abundant choices of flavors that we won’t easily get from the branded ice cream sold in the minimarkets or even the bigger ones. Taro, cookies and cream, black sesame, green tea, banana, chocolate mint, lemon, and more. They have the mainstream ones such as plain vanilla, plain chocolate, and plain strawberry, but there’s no way I’ll choose those if I can get the non-mainstreams with the same price.

“The seller is not here,” Ushijima says, gaining back my full attention. I’m too immersed in my own world to recognize that no one’s really inside. I only see two empty white plastic chairs and a pedestal fan that’s on in a middle speed.

“There’s no buzzer?” I inspect every corner of the glass display and the walls around the store just to find nothing, thus my last option is to shout, “Excuse me!”

No respond.

“Excuse me!” I shout again, louder than before. Funny to think how I never give up when it comes to food. Goshiki’s not wrong for calling me fat last week.

Luckily this time, the white wooden door that’s built on the right side of the store is opened by a little girl that’s way too underage to be the shopkeeper of any place. She’s like seven or eight years old. If she stands beside Ushijima, her entire height is equals to his thigh down to his toes. Now I realize that it’s actually Ushijima’s fault for being a giant.

“Sorry, my mother is in the toilet. She’ll be back soon,” she informs us and I’m relieved to know that my assumption about her working here is false.

“It’s okay. Thank you.” I give her an “o” by curving my right thumb and index finger. She smiles lightly at me before going back to her house. The way she closes the door is so fragile that it flinches my weak-for-cute-things heart a bit.

My eyes then move to the pricelist printed on a big banner that’s hung on the back of the store. _100 yen for 2 scoops_. I don’t know how big the scoop is, but I’m sure it’s at least a quarter cup, maybe even half. That’s so cheap, considering all the varieties of ingredients. If the tastes is good, then this store will be my new favorite in Wakano. Though I’m sure Ushijima won’t ever bring me to a tasteless ice cream store.

“Oh, right…” I murmur to myself as I take my phone from my jeans’ pocket. I press on the lock button to see two things. One, my battery is only twenty percent left. Two, there’s no new notification from LINE, which means Kei hasn’t replied to me. I want to make sure that he doesn’t only read my chat, so I unlock the screen, go to the LINE app, and tap on my chat with Kei. He doesn’t read it, which relaxes me a bit. Or maybe he ignores me on purpose? No, he won’t do that, right? Why is he so mean to me?

“What’s the matter?” Ushijima detects my uneasiness.

“Um, no… I’m asking Kei to go with me to the practice tonight, but he doesn’t read my chat,” I answer without giving away the fact that Kei’s just too indolent. This is the same as not telling anyone about Azumane and his jump serve. No food is worth the price of selling my team’s weaknesses to other teams.

“Tsukishima Kei, middle blocker, number eleven,” Ushijima pronounces Kei’s full name, position, and jersey’s number.

I dilate my eyes before nodding cautiously. “Yeah, did you watch our videos? I’ve never told you about any of that.”

“Yes, I was curious.” Ushijima leans the left side of his muscular body on the glass display, while his right palm rests inside his black shorts’ pocket. “He’s tall, but his play is mediocre.”

“Hey, don’t say that about my team.” I puff my cheeks, although my heart can’t disagree much. Kei is tall and smart, but his power and technique are so-so. Compared to Kageyama, he’s only a boring pebble on a gutter no one will bother to contemplate.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the fact. You must’ve known it all along.”

Exactly, but it’s not like I’ll degrade my main middle blocker in front of Shiratorizawa’s ace.

“Oh, Wakatoshi-kun?” Abruptly, the same wooden door as before is opened by a beautiful lady. Honestly, I’m dazed. She’s too beautiful to be an ice cream seller. She should be an actress or something like that. Her body is not too tall, but very lean, as though she doesn’t pile up any excess fat. Her hair is wavy light brown with bob haircut. When she curls her juicy red lips, I can see dimples on both of her cheeks. Just gorgeous. I don’t have any other explanation.

“Good evening, Yoshida-san,” Ushijima addresses her back politely. I’m positive that he and his teammates have gone here for so many times until they know each other quite well.

“Good evening. What’s for today?” As she walks forward, she grabs two plain light blue disposable paper cups with a diameter that’s roughly around five centimeters from a table behind her and opens the lid of the ice cream display.

“I want taro and green tea.” I touch my index finger against the glass, pointing at the flavor I desire. The coldness feels good, but better if I can pack everything inside and bring it home for a week worth of supply. Ice cream for everyday dessert won’t hurt a young soul like me.

“Me too,” Ushijima decides without thinking twice. Usually, my friends and I would buy different tastes so we could share, but I don’t know Ushijima that long to hope for the same level of intimacy. Besides, the only guy I’ve done that with is Goshiki. I don’t think I’ll have it with other guy any time soon.

“Okay.” Yoshida chuckles as she scoops the flavors we want with her right hand and transfer it inside of the cup on her left. Each of the ice cream bucket has its own scoop, so I’m sure nothing will cross-contaminate anything. But wait, is that the right word when there’s no bacteria involved? Maybe flavor-contaminate is a better alternative.

“Hey.” Once the first cup of ice cream is done and being put on top of the display, Ushijima pats my left arm softly. “Take it first.”

“Is that okay?” I ask innocently.

“What do you mean with that? Ladies first.”

 _Ladies first._ I don’t remember the last time I heard someone saying that to me. With my parents, it’s always “us first, you’re a slave”. With my clubmates, I’m the one who always prioritize them because I treat most of them as my babies. It doesn’t matter. What’s important now is that I accept Ushijima’s consent by clutching the cold paper cup.

“Okay, It’s two hundred yen.” Yoshida drops the second cup on the exact location as before.

“I’ll pay.” Ushijima straightens his position to grab a wallet that’s kept inside of his shorts’ pocket.

“Eh… Is that okay, Ushijima-san?” My left fingers seize the ice cream cup from my right palm as it’s freezing my skin up. “I know it’s only two hundred yen, but still…”

Ushijima squints fiercely  at me before opening his wallet. “Do you expect me not to pay for you?”

“That’s…” My throat’s stuck again. I can’t complete my sentence as I watch his doing—taking two one-hundred yen coins from the middle part of his wallet and throw it on the display, making a loud clanking sound.

I know summer heat is not the one that cast a gradient of red over my cheeks. I know the night breeze is not the one that makes me quiver. I know it’s all because of how Ushijima’s being entirely altruistic toward me. How many times have we had misunderstandings? How many times have we angered each other? Despite all that, he’s able to forget about everything and still treating me like a princess. The more we spend time with each other, the kinder he becomes.

I understand the simplicity given to me. It’s only a cup of ice cream, it’s only two scoops, it only costs one hundred yen, but I might not be able to stop beaming all the way home.

* * *

Immediately after we arrive at the bus stop, Ushijima and I land ourselves on a dark green metal bench. The ice cream in my hand has disappeared somewhere—or should I call it, my stomach. Ushijima even ate faster than me, as if he chewed and chugged the ice cream, instead of letting it melt and indulged naturally by his tongue. Though I won’t complain because everyone has their own preference of eating ice cream. Great example would be my father. He’s the brave type that bites down ice cream on a stick and I shiver every time he does that.

I support my right leg to my left as I take out my phone from my pocket. I almost lose my breath when I get a LINE notification from Kei. Hastily, I open the actual app to witness that he just replied a minute ago. I have to write back as fast as I can before he’s being unavailable again.

_Kei_  
_Yes? 6:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:14 PM Are you busy?_

_Kei_  
_What do you want? 6:14 PM  
_

Ah, I’m so happy that he’s here.

 _Me_  
_ 6:14 PM Azumane-san asked me to practice with him at school until 9_  
_ 6:14 PM I’m too scared to go home by myself, so can you please come?_

_Kei_  
_I see 6:14 PM_  
_And what do you think my answer will be? 6:14 PM  
_

I know Kei like he knows me. That means, I know what his answer will be. Ironically, my fingers type the contradictory all by themselves.

 _Me_  
_ 6:14 PM Yes_  
_ 6:14 PM _

_Kei_  
_Haha in your dream_ _6:14 PM_  
_Be right back, I’m helping my mother preparing dinner 6:14 PM_  
_More important than you 6:15 PM_  
_6:15 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 6:15 PM But Kei, what if get kidnapped by someone?_

He doesn’t read my chat.

_Me_  
_ 6:15 PM Kei??????_

He really left. Without any consideration, he really left me. He’s really the worst. I want to moan out my frustration to the emptiness in front of me, but I don’t want to confuse Ushijima. Now when I look at the great ace beside me and then Kei, it’s like comparing a choir angel to the high commander of the devils in hell. Or an elegant swan to a poisonous cobra. Or brightness to darkness. Or simply put, a good person to a spiteful person.

“Tsukishima Kei doesn’t want to go?” Ushijima predicts accurately. I have no idea why he needed to mention Kei’s full name so deliberately, but I won’t bother to ask as it’s trivial.

“Yes.” I rotate my head to my right and rock it moderately. “He’s busy.”

“Why do you need him that badly?” Ushijima tilts his head cutely.

“I don’t need him that badly,” I correct him. “But I’ll be riding an empty train alone at nine p.m. My clubmates told me that it’s safer if I ask him to accompany me like usual.”

“And he refused?” There’s a displeasure on Ushijima’s face.

I sigh before bending my head down and facing the cemented ground below. Look, I’m not an idiot. I know my mother will leave Shiratorizawa at eight p.m or nine at most. I could’ve asked her to pick me up on the way home because I know she’s going to pass by the road to Karasuno. Even if she’s going to be done later than that, I could’ve asked my clubmates to wait for me, I know they wouldn’t decline my safety. I know the one hundred percent possibility, but I didn’t ask her.

Why?

It’s not merely because I want Kei to come home with me. What I want is for him to practice more. Even if it’s only spiking. He doesn’t have to receive, block, serve, or something more difficult than those three. I just want to see him run and sweat and wiping his glasses because it’s foamy and drink from his bottle to stay dehydrated. I want to see him try.

“He…” I hesitant to go through all the words I’m prepared to say, but as long as I filter it good, then it should be okay. “Kei is actually a good player. He’s also the tallest in our team. It’s just… lately I think he’s getting a bit demotivated.”

“Maybe he has a family problem?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s still doing good in class. It’s only toward volleyball.”

“Then he’s not serious about volleyball. Don’t waste your time on helping someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Ushijima advises me something logical, drawing my eyes all on him for I don’t know how many times already.

“Are you asking me to give up on him?” I smirk lightheartedly.

“If you phrase it that way.” The potency on Ushijima’s eyes doesn’t waver a bit.

“What? Hahaha. No.” I switch my phone to my left hand as I waggle the other hand mid-air. “Not yet.”

Indeed, not yet.

I’m not someone who’ll leave a problem unresolved until I can’t find any fissure to break through. For now, there’s still a reason to push Kei’s back, to pull his hands up, and to be there to stimulate his crumbling passion. I’ll probably give up once Yamaguchi does it first, but I doubt that will ever happen since we’re talking about the most patient guy in Karasuno.

I check my phone again, in case Kei replies, but what I find is something more heartbreaking than any of my problems so far. “…my battery is only nine percent left…”

“Hm?”

I show Ushijima a depressed face. “The train from here to Karasuno will take twenty minutes, excluding the bus trip, but my battery is only nine percent left. I’ll die out of boredom.”

“Ah, you don’t bring any…” Ushijima scrutinizes my body, just to find no bag which equals no charger. I don’t have any spare battery either.

“It’s okay, I can charge it in my school’s gym, but I have to find a way to stay awake for that long doing nothing… My fault. I should be more prepared next time…”

Without articulating more words, Ushijima withdraws his phone from his right pocket—the different pocket than the one he uses to put his wallet in. As soon as I examine the black-cased gadget further, I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. We’ve been contacting each other for more than a month, but I’ve never noticed his phone type. I don’t even think I’ve seen him holding it in public before.

That being so, who would’ve thought that he has the same phone as me, only that mine is gold?

He swiftly presses the lock button on the right side of his phone to enlighten the screen and speaks up airily, almost like a whisper, “Eighty-eight percent.”

Eighty-eight percent? What?

Wait. Hang on. Wait, no way. Is he going to do what I think he’s going to do? No, no way.

“Give me your phone.” He lays his right hand in front of my face. I’m stunned by everything now, so I’m sure my subconscious is the one responsible for putting my dying phone on his big palm. Compared to normal fingers like mine, his look like German sausages. Not that I complain or perceive that as gross. The thickness of his skin is a real proof of years of hard work until he becomes one of the strongest aces in Japan.

And after all the irrelevant thoughts I have, I simply stay still, waiting for him to turn off both of our phones, to open their back case, and at last, to switch the battery. Once it’s done, he turns my phone back on and places it down on the bench—on the tight spot between our thighs, to be exact. I exhale a long deep breath because I’m still trying to process all his treatments for the past ten minutes.

Walking me to the bus stop, buying me ice cream, giving me his phone battery, still waiting for me until the bus arrives. If he does one more similar thing to this, I’m afraid I’ll pass out because my heart can’t handle it any longer. I’m just too despicable to be provided with such compassion. I’m just an irritable ugly duck and Ushijima is the real definition of an angel with a pair of big wings.

“Ushijima-san, why are you doing this…? Is this really okay…?” My voice is so indistinct that even dolphins with the best hearing can’t hear it well.

“That’s the fourth time you asked ‘is this okay’.” Ushijima narrows his eyes a bit and the only thing I can grasp from it is that he doesn’t favor my attitude. “Why are doubting my sincerity?”

And I was right.

“Not doubting. I’m just… not getting used to be treated this kindly.” I look down as for some unspoken reasons, his eyes are getting too intimidating, although it’s nothing like the first time I met him. My right palm settles on the bench, supporting my body that inclines forward, my head almost brushes against his left shoulder.

There’s a long pause before I receive a heartfelt reply, “Do I make you happy?”

“Uh? Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m more than happy. Thank you so much,” I mumble incoherently. He might be able to notice my rosy cheeks, but I don’t mind that at all.

“That’s good. I’m also happy. Better than last week.”

I chuckle unnaturally. Please don’t remind me about last week. I wouldn’t blame it all on me, but there were some things I wish I could redo. I wish I wasn’t too nasty to everyone, I wish I was more thoughtful to Ushijima, I wish I treated him better, I wish I used my brain more than my sulky emotion. Ah, maybe Shirabu heard about that little drama in the cafeteria and that’s the reason why he gives me an unfriendly vibe? If that’s true, then I kind of deserve it.

“I was surprised when I saw you last week,” Ushijima adds more to his story while repositioning himself on a bench slightly. “I haven’t met you for weeks, I wanted to say hi and I was expecting you to say it back to me, but instead, you sharply told me to keep our relationship as a secret. Honestly, I was hurt.”

Just how am I supposed to react to that? I’m so sorry. I apologize. Please forgive me. Regardless of how I parade my regret, it won’t matter much because everything has happened and there’s no way I could fix anything from the past. But truthfully, I didn’t know that it would hurt Ushijima. Now that I do, I have to compute that with how he ignored me after I slapped his hand away from touching my head. Maybe for him, my behavior was like a double-pointed spear stabbed fifty times right into his heart.

“Don’t make that face. It’s okay, I said I’m happy because today you’re being nice. Greeting me, smiling, laughing.” It’s amazing how Ushijima manages to find a way to console me, when I feel that I’m the one who should do that to him.

Still in my uncoordinated stance, I use my left index finger to press the middle button of my phone on the bench, displaying the bright screen and the “85%” mark on the upper right side of it. No one has ever been this gentle to me. Other people would always ignore me or tell me to mature up. My mother would yell at me, even my more level-headed father would occasionally get sick of me. Ushijima has touched me until it feels as though I lost my tongue and my capability to articulate any emotions through words.

“Your bus is here.”

Is it the time already?

I lift my head and obviously, he doesn’t lie. There’s a big white bus driving toward us with decreasing speed. Its headlamps flash rapidly, penetrating the blackness around and upsetting my eyes a bit. Together, we stand from the bench that we’ve only occupied for five to seven minutes. Of course, I don’t forget to grab my phone and slip it inside my jeans’ right pocket. I almost take my sunglasses out, before I decide that I’ll wear it when I arrive at the train station. I’ll be safe in the bus.

“Ushijima-san, I forgot to tell you, but next week I’m coming here again with my mother,” I note Ushijima with a grin. “We’ll be able to switch back our battery.”

“Ah, is that so?” He gazes down at me, just because he’s so arrogantly tall. If he raises his heels, his head will come in-contact with the dusty roof above us. At least he’ll come in handy to rescue my cat if it will be stuck on a tree one day.

“I’ll tell you more about that later… and I’ll call you when I have time,” I promise him two things, just before the bus stops right in front of me and opens its door automatically. I clap his back and tell him that I’ll see him again next week, that I’m grateful for everything he has done for me today, that I’ll definitely say yes if he wants to buy me another cup of ice cream.

Can people smile with their eyes? If the answer is yes, then I believe that’s what I currently see from him. He looks at me so dotingly and although there’s no mirror to reflect my own expression, I hope I give him the same fleeting, yet fervent moment. I just want to equally treat him like he treats me.

My legs feel so heavy when I climb up the bus’ step. There are only less than five people inside, so the emptiness leaves me with many choices. I opt to sit in the middle part, leaning myself against the big window full of scratches and dirt. I look outside to find Ushijima waving his left hand and when our eyes meet, my heart thumps sorely.

I don’t want to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY WANT TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER FROM USHIJIMA’S POV
> 
> So yeah…
> 
> expectation: aw, two is better than one… Ushijima and the heroine are surely the best when they’re together…  
> reality: no, it’s actually about two scoops of ice cream is better than one scoop ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> expectation: …k
> 
> speculation: whaddup with Shirabu? is he [canonly gay](http://snapkyuu.tumblr.com/post/154765562888/submitted-by-shes-beauty-shes-gray) for Ushijima in this fic?  
> debate: maybe the gay one is another person? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> speculation: …k
> 
> Anyway, there’s a nosy reason why her mother keeps dragging her to Shiratorizawa, but I bet all of you know already. XD  
> And the next chapter will still be about Shiratorizawa because there’s something pivotal that I have to write. I can’t move to the summer training camp without that one development, so for Tsukki-lover, please hang on! :'(
> 
> Thank you for reading and happy holiday to those who have it!  
> I can’t 100% guarantee you to update next week, but let me tell you one thing; it will ~~have skinship~~ be cuter~ ♥


	22. Three Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah,” I repeat after him. “Sorry about that.”
> 
> “Why are you sorry?”
> 
> “Because we would be…” I bite my tongue, not finishing my words, because I realize that Ushijima won’t like hearing it.
> 
> “Yes?” Obviously, he also dislikes it when I leave a story undone.
> 
> “Nothing.” 
> 
> _We would be perfect if I were still the best female volleyball player in Tohoku._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I wish you all 365 days full of luck and happiness! Things will happen, but as long as you stay strong, it'll surely be wonderful in the end! ＼(＾▽＾)／
> 
> Personally, I want to thank everyone's support so far. Someone told me that the kudos/hits rate of this fic is very good, considering the amount of the chapters, the time it's first published (just 3 months ago), and the unpopular tags (I was told that xReader apparently isn't really booming, compared to... let's say KuroTsuki or UshiOi? o.o).
> 
> I'm so happy, simply because I care about what I create. I write for a living, thus bad story = will hurt my project = won't sell well = won't make enough money = bankruptcy = no one can afford food = sad ending = I'll take the full blame. (╥_╥)
> 
> Even when writing this series is only a side-hobby for me, I'm still joyful. Thank you again. ♥
> 
> I have one small wish, though. :3  
> Can I maybe get more comments? I'm a super talkative person, so I really want to get to know all of you. Tell me about your day, your problem, your current guilty pleasure (?), or whatever. I'll be happy to read and reply to each one of them~
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Have a good look at this [kitten](http://image.prntscr.com/image/0e20278b7674430091f1827ff53ca9d0.jpg). So cute, it reminds me of Tsukki. ♥  
> 2\. Don't read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> 3\. I proofread this chapter super fast because I didn't have enough time, so forgive me for any typos. :'(
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Cute…”

I abruptly open my eyes and the first thing they capture is the figure of Tendou, bending his body forward to take a good look at me who lies casually on the sideline of Shiratorizawa’s sixth gym, just beside the closed entrance. Goshiki is seated on my right, his hands are busy with his black phone and both of his legs are stretched forward because I use his hips as a pillow for my head. He’s quite small compared to the other boys in the team, but still way fluffier than Kei, which is a good thing because I don’t have to worry of hurting my neck against sharp bones.

A sincere apology to Kei, but he’s just too skinny for cuddling.

“What is, Tendou-san?” My timbre is feeble because I’m already in the state of almost-succeeding-in-striving-so-hard-to-fall-asleep.

“Tsutomu, you, and your cat are such a joy to my eyes.” He points at a small white kitten who rolls his body on top of my abdomen. His body stably goes up and down as a result of diaphragmatic breathing. I too can hear him purrs so cutely.

Long story short, last Wednesday I took a break from my club activity because my mother would bring me to an animal shelter in Sendai. The people there showed us many cats from different breeds that I didn’t comprehend a bit. For me, cats would always be enchanting, regardless who and how their parents were made. Most of them were adults, but I wouldn’t want a cat that could die soon because of old age, so I picked the only white male kitten with eyes as yellow as citrine. He was absolutely gorgeous. People could say that I fell in love at the first sight.

When my mother was filling some administration papers, one lady came to me and asked me to name the kitten. He was already registered in the shelter as “Shiro”, which means white, but everyone knew how cliché and uncreative that was. They could’ve picked a word with more credibility to it, but fine, at least they didn’t literally name him “Neko”. While gently caressing his small body within my folded arms, I came up with a peerless new name.

 _Yue_. The Chinese word for moon.

Even until now, I can’t think of a better one and the more I look at him, the more I know that I didn’t make a single mistake.

He’s white and moon is the same. His irises are yellow and on many occassions, moon is portrayed with a shade of the said color. One more crucial thing is that he sleeps a lot, which can be represented in the way moon shines during the time when people are heading to their bed. He wakes up only to drink, eat, or fulfil any other basic survival needs. Whenever I jiggle the pillow he lies on, he doesn’t move an inch. He’ll just open his eyes for three seconds before going back to his deep slumber.

“I’m going to buy drinks. Do you want something?” Not long after my brief conversation with Tendou, Shirabu and Reon dash toward us, leaving Ushijima and Semi who are still practicing their jump serve, with Yamagata on the other side, ready to propel his teammates’ strength. Kawanishi himself is just sitting cross-legged on the floor across us with a fourteen-inches silver laptop on his lap and black earphones plugged to it. My best bet? He’s watching videos. Safe ones.

“I really want banana Ramune. It’s summer, after all,” Tendou declares as he puts his right hand on his hip.

Ramune, huh? There’s no single person in Japan who has never heard of Ramune. It’s a popular carbonated soft drink that’s become more in-demand during summer. Why? Because the heat can kill us and who doesn’t like some cold drinks to rejuvenate our energy?

There are more than thirty flavors of Ramune, but of course a mini-market won’t sell every single one of it. Even the biggest supermarket in Miyagi will only sell less than fifteen kinds. The most common one is a mix between lemon and lime, which is the very first flavor or the original one. They also have blueberry, strawberry, raspberry, grape, apple, melon, chocolate, but then they take it a step further by having _takoyaki_ , _teriyaki_ , octopus, wasabi, and some more. My favorite flavor for a beverage has always been melon, so I couldn’t care less about the others. They’re bizarre, anyway.

“Yeah, Ramune is good, but can I have two?” I ask carefully because I’m still skeptical of how Shirabu sees me as a human being.

“Sure. We get a lot of money for the club,” the light-brown haired guy replies casually and I’m so jealous. Just how rich Shiratorizawa can get? Probably it’s okay for them to go to Hawaii for a training camp. I understand that I don’t come from a super poor family to make me think that miserably about myself, but this is about the boys in my club. I wish they all could get whatever they wanted like the people in Shiratorizawa.

“I want one melon and one strawberry. Thank you, Shirabu-san,” I continue as both of my hands move onto my cat’s tiny body and stroke it dearly. Seriously, I can’t get enough of this feeling.

“Really? Since when do you like strawberry?” I hear Goshiki say, but I have no idea whether he averts his eyes from his phone or no because I’m too lazy to lift my head up. My position now is comfortable and I don’t want to ruin it by a single shift.

I chuckle as an ambiguous response to Goshiki. Strawberry has never been my favorite when compared to blueberry or cherry, but I won’t particularly categorize myself as anti-strawberry person. I just don’t savor how some products have a really high acidity level to it. The last time I tasted strawberry Ramune was just some weeks ago and it was Kei’s. Strawberry Ramune is one of his favorite beverages.

And that’s the only reason why I ask Shirabu for it. I intend to give it to him.

“I want the original one, Shirabu-san,” Goshiki finally decides and just like that, Shirabu and Reon leave us, while Tendou goes back to the court, chatting Ushijima who just finished his zillionth jump serve and is currently chugging a blue bottle, taken from the floor near Kawanishi.

I look at the gym’s clock and only ten minutes have passed after the hands reached nine p.m. The club activity was done an hour ago and when I asked my mother on what we were going to do to kill the time before our next destination—which is Karasuno—she easily told me that she would drink with Saitou who was done with his own students at the same time as her. There are two things that bother me, up until now.

One, she isn’t a heavy drinker. It can be said that she only drinks when she needs to—like during a party or gathering—but there were times when she was carried home by her friends because she was just out of her mind. By that, I mean he was unable to walk straight while howling stuff about how pathetic everyone in the world was. Therefore, before she packed her belongings into her hand bag, I kept warning her to control her wildness. I’ve had one brutal accident and I swear, I would die if I got another one. She laughed at me and walked away, leaving so many questions from Shiratorizawa’s players. To summarize everything, they simply couldn’t believe how ignorant my mother could become.

Two, she left without thinking about what I’d do around here. Luckily, tomorrow is already summer holiday, so Ushijima, Goshiki, and the rest of the gang didn’t even think twice to make up their mind on waiting for me for the next three hours. Normally, locking the gym is Washijou’s job, but because he isn’t here, it’s assigned to Ushijima’s, as the captain. Even Kawanishi and Shirabu agreed to also wait here, making me believe that the latter might not dislike me at all, although I still have to behave myself in front of him.

For the past hour, I’ve spent half the time cleaning the gym and the other half lying down with Goshiki. We’ve been exchanging many nostalgias from our middle-school years—funny stories about our old teachers, old friends, about ourselves, but never about my accident because Goshiki respects me, unlike some other people whose mouths are as nebulous as piranhas. Then sometimes I would check my phone, but since no one from Karasuno is really looking for me, I keep it off for the time being, saving the battery in case I need it during my eight hours trip to Tokyo.

“Ouch, my back hurts…” I groan as I raise my upper body. My right palm presses against the floor to act as a support while my left hand does a good job at preventing Yue from falling. I take a glance at the kitten and as usual, he opens his eyes for only three seconds before closing them back to sleep. What a precious creature.

“Of course it hurts. You’re lying on a hard surface like that.” Goshiki exhales a deep breath, confused by my weird complaint.

“Because I thought I was able to sleep.” It’s not me not to defend myself. With so much work and extra care, I eventually position myself to be perfectly seated next to Goshiki. Same as him, I loosen up my legs by stretching it onward. I put Yue on my hips and this time, he doesn’t even react. I wish I were a feline, then I could’ve just slept anywhere I wanted with ease.

My eyes fixate on the empty court in front of me. Semi is still doing his jump serve, although it’s already so mind-blowing and powerful. Ushijima is still listening to Tendou and somehow, it’s like seeing a clown attempting to impress an unimaginative kid because how unexciting Ushijima’s expression is. I can’t really tell what they’re talking about, but my ears keep catching the word “volleyball” and “practice match”. Aren’t they all too addictive to this sport? But I suppose that’s the reason they got a scholarship from Shiratorizawa. I know this school doesn’t need half-hearted volleyball-wannabes. They need people who are prepared to jump into the professional world after they graduate.

Without muttering anything, I land my head on Goshiki’s left shoulder. Without protesting about my motion, Goshiki keeps tapping on his phone. I glance up to find out for the first time that he’s been playing a free-to-play escape game. It’s very boring, even when it can be somewhat difficult until the players have to find a walkthrough online. For sure it’s not something that I’ll choose over other hardcore games, but I admit, I used to play it during those old nights when I couldn’t shut my eyes.

“The four-digit code for the safe is in the TV stand,” I advise, out of generosity—or at least according to myself. “I’ve nailed this level a long time ago.”

It’s not surprising at all when Goshiki growls and shoves me away from him, though gently. “Thank you for spoiling!”

“That’s an improper reply! You should’ve said ‘thank you for saving my time’!” I scold him with a bright laugh. He puffs his cheeks and albeit thinking that my help is unneeded, he still taps over the TV stand and progresses to the next level of his game. In my eyes, he’s similar to Yue—too precious that it takes no time for me to snuggle him once again. My right arm tangles around his left as I lay my head back on his shoulder.

“Stop being like a clingy panda,” Goshiki complains because the sudden heaviness on his left arm effects how he carries his phone. However, since I’m an egocentric girl, I don’t subdue.

“Wakatoshi-kun, look! That triple cuteness can cause severe nosebleed!” Out of nowhere, Tendou slaps Ushijima’s back and directs his focal point to where I am. Even Semi and Yamagata do the same because of how ear-piercing Tendou’s voice can become.

 _Triple cuteness_. I don’t have to ask to know that it’s about me, Yue, and Goshiki. Most likely because of how I slant toward Goshiki. I’ve read enough _shoujo manga_ to know that this kind of position works the best to increase someone’s cuteness level. Other than that, we do have a small being as cute as Yue on my lap and a big guy that—thank God—was born with a cute demeanor. Just how many times have I said the word “cute”? Even I get dizzy by it.

“Hang on! Stay in place!” Tendou runs happily to the six chairs located directly on Kawanishi’s left. He unzips a black shoulder bag that’s placed on the leftmost one and takes out a white-cased phone. His body language is so obvious that I immediately know his intention to snap a picture of me, Yue, and Goshiki.

As someone who’s always accurate about reading the future, Tendou does exactly what I thought about. He leaps cheerfully to be right in front of me, holds his phone vertically with both hands, and begin to tap its screen vigorously. At first, Goshiki ducks his head, trying to hide his face from the bombarding shots, but only temproary before he gives in as he chooses to focus more on his game.

“Hime-chan is so pretty! You’re tall, but still somehow small beside our Tsutomu! Super adorable!” Tendou keeps praising me before he’s done with his tenth or twelfth shot—only God and himself can tell.

“Thank you,” I reply calmly. No matter how flattered I feel, my head will never get too big. I won’t allow it to.

“Can I post some on my Instagram?”

Tendou’s absurd question makes me expand my eyes and scowl, showing a huge disagreement. “What? No!”

“Why? I want to tell everyone that I know you personally.”

Is he crazy or is he joking with me? I don’t even know where to begin to explain on why I will never approve him posting my face on social media, specifically his, a player from Shiratorizawa. One, this may sound like I’m an A-list celebrity or some sort, but many reporters are still searching for me. That’s bothering my life. Two, what will people say when they see me hanging out with Shiratorizawa’s boys’ volleyball team? What will my clubmates in Karasuno say? Chaotic. I don’t want to imagine the outcome.

“You don’t say anything… so that means…” Tendou smirks teasingly. His right hand grips his phone up in the air, as if he does that to test the devil inside me. Well, maybe it’s not an as-if. I think he really does that on purpose.

“Tendou, don’t do unnecessary stuff…” Semi—my kindest _senpai_ around—forewarns his teammate. Unfortunately, we all know Tendou, which means we all know that the only way to stop him is to snatch his phone away. Better if we can break it in half.

“Shiki-chan! Go!” I smack Goshiki’s left shoulder before pointing at Tendou, but instead of giving me a proper reaction, Goshiki merely provides me a questionable face.

“What ‘go’?” he asks innocently.

“Tsk! You’re so useless!” I curse to him. Nine times out of ten, Goshiki would get upset to hear that word from anyone, but this time he doesn’t even twitch an eyebrow. Just how much is he into that boring game?

Quickly, I put Yue on Goshiki’s lap because the floor is too cruel for him and stand up. Tendou knows what I intend to do, so he hops several steps backwards, making the gap between us even wider. It’s not me to give up that easily, but I ponder about my next action. What should I do? Jump and successfully secure his phone in one try? As if Tendou isn’t twenty centimeters taller than me.

“Wait. Hime-chan, I have a request,” Tendou proposes while keep swinging his phone to and fro thoughtlessly. “If you do it, I won’t post your picture.”

“What? No. Why would I do that? I never asked to be a part of this,” I rebuff logically. Do I even need to explain why?

“Listen to it first.” Tendou’s voice becomes softer, resembling a plea.

I’m mentally weak when it comes to people pleading earnestly for something, so I sigh and fold my hands tightly in front of my chest. Alongside that, I glance at Ushijima, Semi, and Yamagata who all have been constantly looking at me and Tendou without doing anything supportive. Besides Semi, at least Ushijima and Yamagata could’ve helped me by now. Especially Ushijima. He’s taller and bigger than anyone in this gym, so it’s nothing for him to just smash—or spike—Tendou’s phone, but fine. I just want to let the red-haired guy voice his entreaty and we’re done faster with this.

“Okay…” Tendou smiles broadly and it makes me regret my choice. “Do one jump serve.”

What? I blink my eyes rapidly. For real? What does he think I am?

To elaborate that more, I don’t mean it as in Tendou has just insulted my ability to perform an ultimate jump serve. That’s not it at all. What I mean is that I’m totally doubtful of my capability of doing anything sportive with this physique. Jump serve requires a solid jump to magnify the spin, speed, destination, and everything else. That’s the reason why it’s called “jump serve”. I don’t even remember the last time I jumped more than one centimeter after my accident.

“I can’t do it. It’ll hurt. My doctor also said that I mustn’t play volleyball anymore, unless if I want to injure my shoulder more than this,” I refuse, adding a detail about my hurtful diagnose from last October.

“Really? Does it hurt if you run?” Tendou enlarges his eyes and I no longer brave enough to see right through him. I kind of feel that he can hypnotize me to do whatever he desires.

“Jogging is okay, but even in school, I’m exempted from any kind of heavy sports that requires a heavy usage of my left shoulder. I only play stuff like badminton, but barely,” I explain more, in hope that Tendou will give up, sooner or later.

“What about jump—”

“Tendou-san, I can’t play volleyball anymore!” I cut his words crudely before looking at Ushijima. “Ushijima-san, do something about this!”

“Hm?” Ushijima elevates both of his eyebrows. “But honestly, I want to see you do a jump serve.”

I facepalm hard because that’s not a reply that I wish to get. It’s even more annoying when Tendou cracks a thundering laugh, being all happy and satisfied that his captain is on his side. I look over my shoulder to notice that Goshiki still gives zero attention to other things than his phone. He’s practically incapable of helping me out of this small problem.

“Taichi!” Before anyone speaks more words, Tendou walks to the sleepy-eyes guy on the sideline and kneels in front of him. I have no idea what Tendou is going to do, but I can tell that it’s connected with me doing a jump serve and that I won’t appreciate it a bit.

Kawanishi pulls away the earbuds from both his ears and gives Tendou a look of “what”, while pronouncing the same word, “What?”

“Answer me. On a scale of zero to ten, how much do you want to see Hime-chan’s jump serve?” Tendou asks, straightening his left index finger in front of his junior’s nose.

Still with the same lethargic look, Kawanishi glances at me for a second before looking back up to Tendou. “…ten.”

“Yay! Hear that, Hime-chan?!” Tendou shouts as he rises up energetically. His movement is like a spiral coil—so flexible, yet strong at the same time. I have yet to see him performing crazy blocks, but with that level of pliability, I’m sure he can bewilder his opponents in a flash.

But that’s not what I have to worry myself about. What comes bigger to my mind is the fact that how silly Tendou has become. Does he really think that asking Kawanishi will promptly change my principle? Even when it’s Goshiki or someone as endearing as Yachi who asks, I’ll still have to decline. The only reason is just because I don’t want to hurt myself.

So is it wrong if I announce to the world that everyone here actually doesn’t care about my health? I’m sad.

“Try to do it once, I’ll be ready to receive it!” I haven’t even gotten over Kawanishi’s answer and Kawanishi hasn’t even plugged his earphones back into his ears when Yamagata yells out loud from behind the net to my left. He uplifts his arms and sways them side to side, as if he wishes to summon me for completing a ridiculous quest. As if that will make me yield all at once.

“No, this is serious. You guys are being weird. What if I hurt my shoulder? Will you all pay for my medical bill? I also have a training camp for a week tomorrow, so I don’t want to mess around,” I say no for I don’t know how many times already. I’m so tired and a bit scared of enduring all the aggressiveness around me.

“Do it softly. It’s okay if it doesn’t even reach Hayato,” Semi advices and can anyone hear that? Right, that’s the sound of my heart ripped in thirteen.

“Semi-san, you’re like the only person who I wish would help me out of this matter…” I grumble, pouting my lower lip slightly. When Semi chuckles lightheartedly to that, I vow myself that next time, I’ll believe in Reon more than him. I feel betrayed.

“Please?” Semi begs with that handsome smile of his and I just can’t bring myself to despise him. This could actually be written down as a new record of me getting somewhat mad at someone for only two seconds. Even when Goshiki and I had our rough times together, they always soaked up more time and energy than this.

“Fine…” I exhale a strenuous breath because I can’t imagine a better choice than surrender and move along. “But not for free!”

“Really?” Tendou squeaks ecstatically as he runs his way back to Ushijima and claps the giant’s back faintly. “Name your price, Hime-chan! Wakatoshi-kun will do anything for you!”

I frown in confusion. “…why him? It’s you who suggest this.”

“I don’t mind.” Without considering at least once, Ushijima accepts Tendou’s careless request. Just how easy can he get? I don’t even think he does that because Tendou is his close friend. He does that impulsively. In my opinion, that personality is never okay.

Still again, I sigh, hollower than before. “Three wishes.”

“Three wishes?” Tendou either tries to recheck the credibility of his hearing or he just simply wants to repeat after me. His look is perplexed, so most likely it’s the former.

I nod patently, my eyes travel swiftly between Ushijima and Tendou. “I want three wishes from Ushijima-san, then I’ll do it.”

“Why three, Hime-chan?”

“Because I watched _Aladdin_ ,” I answer nonchalantly as I walk less than five steps forward and stop behind the end line of the court, just on the southwest of Ushijima, Tendou, and Semi. I grab one of the balls that lays near my feet with both hands. Before I proceed to my next move, I notice that Kawanishi and Goshiki’s eyes are now on me.

Finally, Goshiki, finally. I thought I had to force him to watch me, but seemingly, he made up his own mind because he wants to witness something he hasn’t seen live in a long time. That lights my spirit up a bit.

“Don’t jump too high. It’ll probably be a net-in, but it’s okay.” I know Ushijima’s words are based on pure kindness, but for some reasons, now I’m offended. I’ve had years of experience playing volleyball. All the terms and rules were shoved into my brain, at the same time as when I began to learn colors in kindergarten. My one and only handicap is that I can’t lift my left-shoulder, but I’m not left-handed, thus I’ll be fine the least.

Where did that sudden stream of positivity come from? I have no idea either.

“Hime-chan, nice serve!” Yamagata chants his cheer. Since when does he call me that? As long as I remember, he has always called me by my last name, without even adding any honorific, just like everybody else besides Goshiki and Tendou. But it doesn’t matter for now.

“Okay.” I bob before dribbling the volleyball against the ground below. In volleyball, the server only gets maximum five seconds to do a legal serve. During those seconds, I’ll always do a quick inspection of the opposing team’s location. I must find an empty spot where my ball can maneuver safely and freely, yet still difficult for them to get without bumping into each other. The area that’s far from the libero is even better.

Without wasting more time, I hold the ball with my right palm and toss it up in the air. My heart stops when I realize that I put too much force to it. No, it’s not too much. It’s just how I usually play. I too can hear Semi gasp, presumably also noticing my “mistake”. I know he has warned me to do this softly, but how am I supposed to leave my habit? I can’t. Back then, I could always score faultlessly with this. It shouldn’t be a problem, as long as I’m being very careful with my left shoulder.

I run ahead, thrust my arms to the back, and leap forward. My eyes are solely focused on the ball above me, like a lion seeking to devour its prey within the beauty of sub-Saharan Africa. When the timing feels right, I raise my right hand and smash the ball. I can totally hear the loud “bang”, the one that I always perceive from Ushijima or Azumane. I can totally see the ball spin insanely to the other sideline, far from Yamagata. I can totally calculate the speed, in which it won’t be out, it will only be less than one centimeter inside the line. I know it all, because I aim it precisely that way.

Where did that sudden stream of positivity come from? From the fact that I’ve always been one of the best volleyball players in the country.

“A-awesome!” Yamagata straightaway compliments me after the ball hit the ground and maneuvered to the empty area behind him. He didn’t manage to touch it with his fingertips, let alone to flawlessly receive and send it back to the setter.

“Hime-chan, that was so cool, but you jumped too high and smashed too hard! Is your shoulder okay?!” Tendou is the first one who interrogates my state. So it appears that he cares about me, even when it’s not plenty enough.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt…” Albeit answering to Tendou, I stare at my right palm and not him. It’s not red, it doesn’t burn, but there’s a tingling sensation in every part of it. The best I can do to explain is that I feel thousands of ants scattering on the surface. This isn’t new to me. Instead, I miss this. I long for the feeling that was harshly taken away from me, even when I didn’t wish for it to happen.

I use the same palm to seize my left shoulder. True, I don’t feel pain at all. Tendou was correct—I did jump too high, I did smash too hard, I expected it to sting a bit, but it doesn’t. I haven’t been “testing” it for the past ten months, so I’ve never known that this is bearable for me. Does this mean the doctor made an error? Does this mean I can play volleyball again? Does this mean I’m eligible to leave Karasuno and move to a school with the best volleyball team in the country?

No.

The answer is still no and I’m stupid for even thinking of all the possibilites.

“Be right back. Toilet,” I excuse myself, ignoring praises after praises that I get from everyone, but mainly from Semi, Tendou, and Yamagata. They remind me of all the things I used to hear from the professionals. My technique is extraordinary, my form is beautiful, my control is monstrous, even the funny dream of how I can be the one who leads Japan to win the Olympics.

I bite my lower lip. Why do I let myself be overwhelmed by this?

* * *

“Wait.”

Shortly after I leave the gym, Ushijima calls out for me. I halt my feet and rotate my upper body to see him carry his wide steps toward me. I’m not startled at all as this isn’t the first time he has chosen to be by my side when I’m all alone. I’ll never forget last week, when he treated me ice cream and waited until my bus came. I know the same thing will happen over and over again, hence might as well categorize is as a routine, instead of a one-time act of fondness.

“What’s wrong? You want to pee together?” That’s gross for a young lady to say, but I can’t help but to tease him.

“No, it’s dark outside, so I’ll accompany you,” he replies sternly. Of course. I snigger because that’s just the usual him who barely understands a banter—which can also be a double-edged sword to his relationship with anyone. Let’s say that he’ll believe all the April Fool’ jokes. On the other hand, that trait is also good because he will never take anyone half-mindedly.

“I’m just kidding, Ushijima-san…” Once Ushijima catches up to be on my left, I start to move again. “I’m not scared of the darkness, but thank you.”

Ushijima doesn’t react to my statement. All he does is look solemnly at me with head slightly tilted to the front. First, I giggle and let myself having a locking-eyes competition with him, but then I give up because I know that I don’t stand a chance against the intensity projected by his irises. Even when I look away and focus my vision to the empty road ahead, I can still sense an invisible sharpness penetrating my soul. He’s such a ferocious eagle.

“Are you okay?” Suddenly, he asks me something that—once again—is able to take my entire awareness.

“Huh? Yeah. Why are you asking that?” I cast a question back, wondering if I’ve been acting unusual in his eyes.

“Because after you served, you looked like you wanted to cry,” he responds sharply to that.

“Ah.” I tuck the falling hair around my right cheek behind my cold ear. “Is that why you’re coming with me now? To comfort me?”

“Goshiki told me about the time when you were hospitalized. He said you’re the type of person that cries soundlessly, so people rarely notice. I can’t let you cry alone,” Ushijima vocalizes his mind like it’s nothing, but I love that side of him. I can be sure that he won’t deceive me nor will he fabricate any factual matters he possesses. It’s uncommon to find someone so genuine and I’m lucky to have one near me.

“Why would he tell you that…? Guess I’ll have to lecture him after this, but no, I won’t cry,” I brush his assumption away. “It’s just… That jump serve made me think of the possibility of playing volleyball again. I know I can’t, so I’m just a bit down. You can say that I’m shocked after ten months of hiatus.”

“Yeah, even if you can still spike, it’s a burden to the team if you can’t receive or block,” Ushijima adds more glooms to my sadness. Just for this time, I wish he could be more tactful, but then contradictorily enough, it won’t be Ushijima Wakatoshi anymore.

“I understand.” I smile forcefully because my emotion tries to take over my heart, even when I try to fight it with all I have. “Then… does that mean I can come to you whenever I need a shoulder to cry on?”

“Yes.”

“Really? I’m always welcomed?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

This time, I grit my teeth for a moment before I let out another word, “…really?”

“Yes. Why are you still doubt—” Ushijima is unable to finish his sentence as I throw myself languidly between his arms and coil my hands around his back. The motion is akin to falling carelessly into the softest pile of cotton, maybe because I believe that he will never reject, let alone hurt me in any possible way.

I can’t identify whether he’s startled or no, but from the way he freezes up, I opt to believe he’s still figuring out what’s going on between us. I too recall the fact that he has never had any close female friend before me, so I stay, selfishly allowing him to get used to our current situation. What I can do now is lean my head on his rock hard chest, grasp a small part of the black shirt covering his lower back, and let my right ear absorbs all the melodies made by his pumping heart. A month ago, I would laugh if someone stated that I could get this intimate with the best male volleyball ace in Tohoku.

“Are you crying?” he gives me his first question after the short silence built within the night.

“Not crying…” I mumble hazily because my breath is trapped between my lips and his chest. I’ve told too many white lies, but for now, I sincerely tell the truth. Really, I’m not crying. I’m trying my best not to shed a single tear. It’s not laborious at all since I’ve gone through three hundred days this way, by showing everyone that my mind will never break and my smile will never fade.

But Ushijima is so lovely and understanding that I can’t help but to let the grief overcomes me. My eyes are still as dry as they can get, but my chest burns like the summer sun. I’ve hugged some boys before. All of them were either Goshiki’s teammates—including Goshiki himself—or my family members. The warmest one was after I had my accident. I didn’t demand any affection, but I had no reason to be upset if they felt the obligation to console me. Ushijima’s body is just different than any of them. It’s wider, sturdier, and most important of all, it feels safer.

“Ah, sorry, Ushijima-san… Am I only allowed to do this when I cry, not when I’m sad?” I draw myself away for a second, only to be held back by how his arms wrapped tightly around my shoulder. My eyes widen up, because I’m surprised. The blood that circulates throughout my body artlessly feels as though it’s boiling inside and it tells me that if I do something reckless, it can spasm violently and burst open my weak heart.

Ushijima doesn’t want to let me go, that’s why. I feel so desired, yet protected like a little girl.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to hug you back because I didn’t want you to get mad at me, but I want you to stay like this… Is that okay?” Ushijima apparently needs my permission, making it clear that I might’ve scarred him pretty badly two weeks ago. Is that also the reason why he’s stunned in the beginning? He’s so funny and I’m so mean.

“It’s okay…” Once more, I crumple his t-shirt, messier than before. Simultaneously, his arms sealed me even closer to him, but still attentive enough not to crush my injury. His left hand lands on the back of my head and his right hand strokes my back, trying to ease my burden, although I told him that I’m not wailing over my fate. The way he touches me is so socially unskillful, but I adore him for that. I appreciate him for at least trying.

“Among everyone, why does it have to be you?” His breath blows against the puffed hair that shields the top of my head and he doesn’t ask for another approval to rest his chin there. Though I don’t whine over it. Even if he caresses my cheeks so lovingly for the next ten minutes, I won’t push him away. Because it’s him, because I know he will respect me.

“The accident?” I just want to make sure that it’s not about something else.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” I repeat after him. “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you sorry?”

I loosen my grip on his t-shirt as I release myself completely from him. He understands, maybe half-heartedly, but what’s important is that he lets go off me. Still, he doesn’t get enough because his fingers hastily roam down to squeeze mine and level them up with my neck, so he can take a better look. He contemplates every single one of them with a pair of inquisitive eyes, as if he’s never wondered that mine could be very slender compared to his.

“Because we would be…” I hold my tongue, not finishing my words, because I realize that Ushijima won’t like hearing it. His good will always makes him cautious of not making me mad, but has he ever thought that I could make him mad? I have. I just thought of that.

“Yes?” Obviously, he also dislikes it when I leave a story undone.

“Nothing.” I pull my hands away from him before turning around, continuing our interrupted trip to the toilet. Just how long have we been out here? Everyone in the gym must’ve cackled and thought of hundreds of obscene fictions all for their own amusement.

“You’re still distrusting me,” he remarks, right after he follows my path, gradually trailing behind me.

I merely smile without him noticing it.

_We would be perfect if I were still the best female volleyball player in Tohoku._

It’s not because I don’t trust him or whatnot. It’s because I want to vent that mindless and childish sentence out of my mind. Because I don’t want to rile him, I have no better option than to suppress the words inside the void of my heart. Let it be myself who theorize that it would be so much better, so much cooler if people could see us as “two grand aces”, rather than one grand ace and one good-for-nothing ex-ace. More to that, I just don’t want him to embrace me ceaselessly, just because I’m afraid that I will only take advantage of his abundant gentleness. Unconsciously or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyi, I actually wanted Yue to have blue eyes, but pure white cats with blue eyes are usually deaf, so I made him having yellow eyes instead. :o
> 
> Because of the length and plot limitation of this main fic, I couldn't write the scenes about Ushi and Tsukki's reaction when the heroine named the cat "Yue". I'm planning to write it for the boys' POV, but it sort of went this way (without giving too much spoiler):  
> 
>
>> Ushi: ...you named him Yue?  
> Heroine: Mhm!  
> Ushi: Doesn't that mean "moon"?  
> Heroine: It does!  
> Tsukki: Hahaha! My point! She likes me more than she likes you!  
> Ushi: We don't know about that.  
> Tsukki: But I know her more than you do!  
> Ushi: I've known her longer than you.  
> Tsukki: Yeah, only her name! That's not something to be proud of! I know her inside out!  
> Ushi: ...her inside out?  
> Heroine: FIGURATIVELY, Ushijima-san... but wait. What are you two fighting about? I named him based on this handsome character from Cardcaptor Sakura. I used to watch that when I was a kid.  
> UshiTsuki: .........  
> ~Fin~
> 
>   
>   
> Thank you for reading! See you again next chapter~ ♥ ~~yes, I'm still struggling to go back to my usual twice-a-week update D;~~


	23. The Lady Named Chiyoko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He smiles before kneeling both of his knees in front of me and that’s when I recognize a dark red drawstring bag in his right hand. “For you.”
> 
> “...hm? What?” I lift one of my eyebrows as I take the bag from his hand. It’s a bit heavy, but I’m sure that I won’t see two dead rats or frog heads inside.
> 
> (this is the first time I'm confused on choosing which part should be included in the chapter summary because there are 3-4 different things happening in this chapter (￣_￣)・・・)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry for being gone for almost two weeks!
> 
> I was already preparing myself to update twice last week, but long story short, last Friday (January 6) I woke up with so much pain in my right wrist. I couldn't even lift a water bottle or support my own body. Most likely I had a wrong sleeping position, plus that I had been typing so much. I used to experience some small throbs, but that was it.
> 
> I was told to completely rest by my company, so I spent days binge-watching several seasons of Modern Family with my glitched wrist. (this is irrelevant but I just want to write it because I adore Sofia Vergara haha)
> 
> But after a week of NOT getting any better (although I did apply relief cream), I got so frustrated. I could still type on my phone but it'd sting to use my laptop. -_-  
> I didn't want to immediately go to the doctor either. You know they tend to exaggerate so you'll pay more because money is everything. -_-  
> In the end, I went YOLO, bent my fingers down, and cracked my wrist. It could literally hear a phenomenal "crack!". It didn't hurt that much, but in conclusion, it fixed the problem...? :')  
> The very next day, it didn't hurt that much anymore. Just... what the hell? :')  
> ~The End~
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don't read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> 2\. Don't read this chapter if you're alone at night. I'm serious.  
> 3\. Yes, yes, Tsukki is here! xD

* * *

“Wait outside, Ushijima-san! Don’t come with me!” Once we arrive in front of the ladies’ toilet, I warn Ushijima with one finger up in the air between us.

“Of course I will wait outside.” A confusion is clearly drawn on the ace’s face. To that, I laugh playfully. I should really stop teasing him—should’ve done that weeks ago, but I just can’t bring myself to. I have a love and hate relationship with the way he takes all things so gravely and somehow, I relish every bit of it.

My eyes catch a glimpse of Ushijima leaning his back on an orange pillar behind him before I push the plain white plastic door of the restroom ahead. Funny to think that I’ve never been in this place before. Two weeks ago, I didn’t have the urge to go to the toilet at all. Last week, I left this school after only several minutes. Those are all the reasons why I’m quite enggrosed in this enchanting smell of fresh flowers. I look to my left and notice a blue fragrance dispenser hung on the wall, thus I’m sure it’s coming from that and I’m glad for it being there.

Contradicting to the extravagance I’ve thought about all this time, the overall interior of this toilet looks as simple as the one Karasuno has—both are dominated by white walls and floors, only that this one is slightly bigger. There are eight maroon cubicles on my right and four sink cabinets of the corresponding color on my left, with the same amount of soap dispensers that contain green liquid inside of them. The only major difference is how this toilet provides two big hand dryers, while Karasuno only has some roll tissue dispensers.

I opt to enter the third cubicle and hastily sit on the pristine toilet to finish what I must do. It’s not that I’m chased by the time, it’s just that I don’t want Ushijima to be out there for longer than needed. It’s also amusing to see the great ace of Tohoku waiting alone in front of a toilet for a girl. Others will squeal out of jealousy and want to be treated the same way, but people like me will be facepalming hard. Ushijima Wakatoshi is just too gracious to be depicted in that kind of image.

Once I’m done with taking care of my need, I flush the toilet and that’s when I hear the front door opened violently, followed by the soft sound of my mother humming. She has this distinctive alto voice that somehow gets even deeper when she sings, so I’m one hundred percent sure that it’s her. Aside from that, it’s just her style to open a door like she wants to perform a karate technique or some sort. It can be so embarrassing, but luckily, Ushijima and his friends have understood her real personality.

“Kaa-san? You’re back already?” As I leave the cubicle, I ask my mother the one-million-dollar question. It’s still around nine p.m., meaning she was with Saitou for only an hour. Here I thought she was going to come back at eleven or five to ten minutes before that.

“Yeah,” she replies shortly. From the echoes I receive, I detect that she’s inside the fourth cubicle, the one directly to my right.

“What’s wrong? You’re done? Or are you going back to the restaurant again?” I walk to the leftmost sink and start to wash both of my hands with the hand soap that’s apparently foamless. I hate this kind, although there’s no particular explanation to it. I just hate the way it feels tight and dense on my palms.

“I’m going back again. The restaurant doesn’t have a toilet, that’s why I’m here.”

I don’t give any response as I turn off the tap and move to the hand dryer on my left. I only stay under for less than five seconds when I realize that using tissue is a way faster method, so I leap to the tissue dispenser right next to the dryer. I pull out two pieces and roll them in my hands, wiping each part between my fingers tidily. This may give an impression that I’m a clean-freak, but that’s not the problem at all. I just don’t see the point of having wet hands when I can have dry hands. I don’t know how to make the simplification even simpler than that.

“Kaa-san, I’m going back first, okay?” I notify my mother and since I don’t hear any words back, I just leave the toilet. I can’t really tell what’s going on inside her cubicle, but I suppose she’s actually constipated and too ashamed to admit. I’m sure the restaurant has its own toilet, but it’s uncomfortable if she’ll spend a long time there. There’s also a big probability of other people waiting for her to be done. Using Shiratorizawa’s toilet will give her more options and time without having to clarify anything to anyone.

Long story short, it’s just her and her conflicted pride.

“That’s fast,” Ushijima remarks once I’m completely out, into the darkness of the night. He straightens his body and in some way, that single thing makes him look even taller than usual. He sure is around one hundred ninety centimeters, hence I think that’s just my feeling.

“Yeah.” I flap my hair behind my shoulders. “Did you talk to my mother?”

“Your mother?” He repeats my last two words as I begin to move my feet back to the gym. This time, he stays beside me, not even a step behind. I don’t know if he realizes the way he adjusts his long step to fit mine, because I still do. He’s so kindhearted, I can’t compliment more.

“Yeah. My mother. Did you talk to her?” I ask the same question all over again.

“You mean when she was coaching?”

I stop walking and so does he. It doesn’t take an additional second for me to look up and perfectly match my eyes with his, several dents of paranoia are sculpted on my forehead. What’s wrong with this guy? I know he’s all dense and sometimes hard to connect, but how come he doesn’t get this noncomplex question? Do I need to speak in another language? From Venus, Mars, or Jupiter?

“My mother just went to the toilet, right? I’m curious if she talked to you about something before she went in.” With an impressive level of patience, I rephrase my words. I hope this time he will grasp what I mean. If no, then I don’t know. I’ll give up or I’ll ask his teammates to help me. How sad.

“What are you talking about?” Ushijima’s voice seems so velvety to my ears. “Your mother wasn’t around.”

“Huh? Then who—” I choke on my words as I register something really really disturbing. I can even feel my eyes broaden up all by themselves.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

If that wasn’t my mother, then who was that?

“Eh…?” That’s the only syllable coming out of my mouth. I duck my head down and shake—I don’t know if it’s the ground below me, my body, or just a hallucination, but I do feel that my world uncontrollably shakes. My right hand goes up to my head and kneads it slowly, as if that’ll help me figuring things out.

Who was that if my mother wasn’t around? Is Ushijima joking with me? No, he’s not that kind of person. He can’t even comprehend my funniest pun, so that’s just far-fetched. Then again, who was that? Was she another woman? Impossible, I spoke to her. Maybe she was truly another woman who merely mistook me as her own daughter? No, I specifically mentioned about the restaurant, about my mother’s schedule. The coincidence was just too good to be true.

And this is just out of this world. In a bad way.

“Ah,” Ushijima heaves an apathetic reaction. “You saw Chiyoko.”

“W-w-who’s Chiyoko?!” Set aside the stuttering at the beginning, I finally scream at the top of my lungs. This is solely based on fear, nothing else. And why is Ushijima so nonchalant about this? Is this a normal occurrence? Then if he knows all along, why didn’t he tell me beforehand? What is this? Why do I keep having Shiratorizawa-related bad omens?

I don’t follow what’s going on after, but I know Ushijima grips my right wrist and drags me back to the gym, and that I keep swearing on how I will never step my feet on this school’s ground ever again—one that once again, I should’ve done weeks ago. As soon as I’m a bit calmer, I feel quite thankful that at least, someone’s here with me. If I were to be alone, I would’ve passed out. Probably even more brutal to the point where I’d hit my head against the ground and just die out of terror. My mother would mock me for being exaggerating, but try to be in my shoes.

* * *

“Why are you two holding hands?!”

“She saw Chiyoko.”

A short conversation between Tendou and Ushijima is abruptly stopped as the former widens his eyes bigger than what normal people are capable to achieve. A moment later, he dashes to me, together with Yamagata and Goshiki, while Semi and Kawanishi are nowhere to be found. I discern one thousand things in their eyes—curiosity, excitement, even sympathy. One thing that I notice the most is how Goshiki finally leaves his game world for my sake. No, maybe not for my sake. Maybe for the sake of the creepy story he’d pay to hear, albeit I know, he’s actually super scared about this kind of subject.

With all the dizziness and unanswered questions I bear, I tell these people what I experienced just less than three minutes ago. I went to the toilet, I entered one of the cubicles, I heard my mother in, I left to wash my hands as we talked about the restaurant, and I said goodbye to her before I headed back to Ushijima. I stumble over my own words in panic, but Yamagata is gentle enough to rub my right shoulder. That doesn’t ease me thoroughly, but it’s better than nothing.

Once I’m done, all the third-years bicker about who should enlighten me on what’s really happening. In the end, it’s Yamagata, because according to Tendou, he’s a good bedtime story teller. I’m curious why—whether he has read Tendou to bed with a children’s book or some such, but right now is not the time to talk about that. My brain will hysterically burn to none if I don’t get the full detail of who Chiyoko really is in the next sixty seconds.

The story began twenty years ago, roughly at the same time when Ushijima’s father was still attending Shiratorizawa. There was a first grader named Watanabe Chiyoko. People could find a picture of her inside one of the old yearbooks in the library and everyone agreed that she was gorgeous. She had a long black hair that touched her waist like me, but slightly curly. Her smile was somewhat sensual, framing her thin lips that made her even more like a feast for the eyes. Her body was short and tiny—one that I might compare to Yachi’s. Overall, she was a well-known girl who would frequently gather popular boys and girls everywhere she went.

During summer the same year, she got herself a boyfriend, the handsome third-year captain of the basketball team. Things went smooth for them and many people were jealous of how fine they looked together. It wasn’t even a month later when she caught him making out with the basketball’s manager in his classroom. Roughly two days after, she committed suicide by slitting her wrist with a rusty cutter in the gym that was primarily used by the boys’ basketball team. Her body was discovered early in the morning by some first-years of the team and it was told that she had died six to nine hours prior to that.

Immediately, the aforementioned gym was bulldozed and turned into two bathrooms, one for ladies—the one where I went—and one for gentleman. Throughout the years after that case, many guiltless girls had the exact same paranormal phenomena as me, but only the pretty ones. Also, mine was actually nothing because Chiyoko transformed herself into the figure of my mother. Some stated that they saw her corpse lying horrifically on the floor or other bloody experiences that I couldn’t care less to hear about. Weirdly enough, no boys had experienced the same thing, even until now.

“So in the end, people speculate that Chiyoko will only show herself to a beautiful girl, those who she sees as a ‘threat’ because she still can’t get over that tragedy with her ex-boyfriend!” Yamagata arms akimbo. “You must be happy, Hime-chan! That means you’re beautiful!”

I grunt because of Yamagata’s absurd praise. I must be happy because a ghost sees me as a beautiful girl, therefore she haunts me? Right. What does he expect me to do now? Cry tears of joyfulness? Does he even understand that it’s a ghost we’re talking about? A ghost who’s taking a “liking” toward me, a living being. A ghost. Should I repeat that again? A ghost. A dear ghost. Or to phrase it better—a departed spirit with nowhere to go because after twenty years, she still holds grudges toward his ex-boyfriend and the girl he cheated on with.

I exhale a long breath full of despair. “Anyway, the reason of her doing that was dumb. As if having a boyfriend was everything that mattered in this world. Regardless how accurate your story or how bad the real story was, I don’t care. That’s just purely sad.”

The first person who cracks a laugh is Tendou, then Yamagata comes after, while Goshiki only blinks his eyes cutely. I don’t know what they find funny about my rational words, but I won’t bother to ask. I don’t even want to talk about Chiyoko anymore. If only there was a weightier purpose on why she took her own life when she was still that young, then I’d feel more relatable and empathetic. I’d even come back to the toilet and pray so she could have a better afterlife. Now? I’m just irked and I want to move on to another topic.

“Wish everyone’s more like you, though,” Goshiki keeps the conversation going. “You didn’t even have any suicidal thoughts when you almost died last October.”

“Oh, right! About that! Stop talking about my past to your teammates! What’s your purpose of telling them the story of when I cried at the hospital?!” I rebuke Goshiki without any longer mentioning about all those suicidal matters. He should know better that keep reminiscing about those dark days of my life isn’t something I appreciate. I understand it’s difficult to literally ban everyone from talking about what happened to me ten months ago, but as the person who was always there, Goshiki could at least shut up a bit.

“Ugh?! Ushijima-san?!” Goshiki averts his eyes to the composed captain who stands on my right. “You told her, did you not?! I already told you not to tell her anything when everyone told me to tell them about her!”

What was that? What did I just hear?

“Speak proper Japanese, Tsutomu!” Tendou sneers, a wide grin frames his amused face. Exactly. Only for this one time, I totally agree with his advice.

“My bad, but I didn’t know that it was supposed to be a secret? You never warned me,” Ushijima replies calmly to Goshiki who’s still glaring at him. Knowing his real personality, he truly doesn’t mean to guilt-trip his junior or to be sarcastic. I think it’s also my fault for not telling Goshiki to keep everything as a secret, but then again, it’s also Goshiki’s fault.

I give up. Let’s just end this by concluding that it’s everyone’s fault.

“It’s okay. Never mind, just don’t do it again, Shiki-chan,” I demand before sighing harshly, just because I want this unimportant topic to be over as soon as possible. Without waiting for any unnecessary response, I walk back to the sideline where Yue’s been lying miserably alone. I see from my peripherals that Goshiki comes after me while the others just roam back to wherever they belong in this huge gym.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me!” I hear Goshiki plead before I recline on the ground beside Yue, my back touching the wall behind. My right hand picks the adorable cat and puts him on my lap once more. Goshiki seats himself to my right, but this time, he doesn’t swiftly play with his phone. I can’t even see the gadget, so maybe it’s saved inside his shorts’ pocket.

“I’m not.” With both palms patting Yue’s body, I fixate my eyes to the view in front of me. Tendou is now choosing Yamagata as his chit-chat partner. Different than Ushijima, Yamagata seems to enjoy hearing Tendou, he even often laughs and reciprocates. Near them, Ushijima’s busy grabbing some balls from the ground to toss them to the carts nearby. Does it mean he’s done practicing? Looks like it, but I doubt so. Maybe he wants to clean the ground so he play some sets after the rest is back? I don’t think Kawanishi will like it.

Right. About Kawanishi and Semi. I haven’t seen them since I came back from the toilet. Kawanishi’s laptop is left opened and unattended, his earphones are also nearby. Both Shirabu and Reon haven’t come back from their shopping either. Truth be told, I’m kind of thirsty, but I won’t complain since I could’ve just drunk from Goshiki’s bottles or the tap water outside. Not like it’s our first time doing “indirect kiss” like that. Even Kei and I have done that a lot of times.

“I understand if you’re mad. I’m sorry, but I was forced by them to tell stories about you. You should understand that you’re quite famous. Just believe me—no one here ever badmouths you…” Goshiki crosses his legs, his left arm supporting his weight. “…unlike some people.”

“Yeah. I know these people are not like that. I mean… if they were, why would they be here until this late, just to wait for me?” My answer is flawlessly fast. “But… I’m just embarrassed. I don’t want them to see me as a weak person.”

“What?! The only people who will call you weak are those who are suuuper jealous at what you’ve accomplished so far!” Goshiki exclaims, abruptly taking the attention of all three of the third-years in front of us. I can feel a palpable tension building up and because it’s too awkward, my right leg automatically kick Goshiki’s left.

“Lower your voice!” I scold him again, now with a heavy frown on my face. Does he even know what “embarrassed” or “embarrassing” mean? I know he has some of Hinata’s hot-blooded traits—too optimistic, too cheerful, too simple-minded, and too many other childlike natures—but this one thing he should know. If he doesn’t, then it’s just purely stupid.

“But that’s true!” Goshiki continues as I see fire in his eyes and it might shoot out of his mouth like a dragon—figuratively, of course. “You didn’t even cry when Chiyoko did that to you! You have no idea how other girls will fakely cry, just so they can hug and be protected by the boys around them! You just didn’t!”

“Huh? Well, I was scared, but why would I fake my cry for attention…?” I mutter in low tone.

“Exactly that! You’re like…” Goshiki curls his lips, probably trying to brainstorm a better compliment for me. “Oh! You’re a female character I wish every video game would have!”

What?

I can’t help but laugh out loud and roll my head back, because I wholly understand what Goshiki’s trying to imply. I’m not a damsel in distress. That’s what people hate the most about every female character in a video game, _manga_ , novel, or any other forms of entertainment. They always need to be saved by the boys. They can’t decide on something all with their own power. They are too meek to speak out their mind. When there’s a crucial moment, the only thing they can say is “eh?” and cry. Chiyoko can be grouped within that type because of how hopeless she is—or was?

True, I think I’m mentally better than most girls I know. I don’t cry much. I don’t easily give up. Even I want to carry heavy boxes with my injured shoulder—though I won’t refuse if someone offers a help. I just don’t want to depend my entire life on someone, despite their gender or age. When I think I can finish something by myself, I don’t see the point of asking help from someone. I’m not scared of many things, either. Walking alone in the dark, going blindly to an uncharted area, seeing a needle entering my skin and enduring the pain—they’re all nothing to me. I simply won’t allow strangers to categorize me as an incapable person, especially when they know one or two things about my background.

I glance at Ushijima and as always, he’s been staring earlier at me. Usually when our eyes meet, I’d be nervous and look away because of how easy the pressure can soar, but this time, I smile gently at him. As expected, he looks a bit surprised, his eyebrows even twitched up a bit. That transforms my smile into small chuckles. To control that, I cover my mouth with my right hand as I lean to Goshiki who’s now trying to take out his phone from his pocket. He complains about me clinging to him, but I don’t budge.

By all means, I can be at the bottom of the sea. I’m able to write a list of all my insecurities and it’ll probably take me twenty-four hours to finish. All this time, I’ve managed to hide them because I don’t want anyone to pity me, especially when they begin to connect everything to my accident. Although there’s one thing—one small thing that I might never say to anyone. The moment when Ushijima hugged me so tightly was one of those rare moments when I allowed myself to be immersed in fragility. I always look at my surrounding, wanting to be aware of how people meassure my resilience, but when Ushijima was there, I simply didn’t care about that anymore.

Up until now, there are only a handful of people who have witnessed that harrowing side of me. One and two are my parents, three is Goshiki, four and go on are Goshiki’s teammates and that’s that.

“Anyway, where’s Semi-san and Kawanishi-san?” I belatedly ask.

“To the dorm. Semi-san said he needs to take something.” Goshiki unlocks his phone and open the same escape game as before.

I raise my eyebrows, eyes fixating at Goshiki’s phone screen. “What about Kawanishi-san? I thought he doesn’t live in the dorm?”

“Yeah, Semi-san asked him to come. He never says no since Semi-san is his favorite _senpai_.”

“I see…” I bob my head several times because I understand why Semi can effortlessly win people’s choice award. “What about you, then? Who’s your favorite _senpai_?”

There’s a good five to ten seconds of idleness before I hear a stifled mumble, “…Ushijima-san.”

“Ha? Really?” I snigger, eyes dilating. “You’re an acute  _tsundere_ , aren’t you? Acting like you want to surpass him, but you’re actually so inspi—”

“Oh, stop it! Him being my favorite _senpai_ and me being a better ace than him are two different things!”

My muffled laugh turns into a burst of hilarity. How adorable can Goshiki get? Look at those sparkling eyes and puffed pink cheeks. He’s been suffering from this trait for years and I’m so happy that he’s never changed for the worse. Knowing these, I will never trade our time together with anything. That’s how much I hold him and all his cute bearings dearly in my heart.

* * *

Barely ten minutes after I lay my head to rest, Reon and Shirabu finally come back with one white plastic bag in their right hand. It took them almost thirty minutes to shop because apparently, Reon wanted to buy other snacks that weren’t available in the mini-market nearby, thus they went to one that was a bit farther. Shirabu looks so discontent and what’s hilarious is how he doesn’t even try to hide that demeanor. Reon notices and he only laughs, perhaps knowing that this is bound to happen the moment he prolonged Shirabu’s work.

Kindly enough, Shirabu walks to me and gives what Goshiki and I have ordered—one original-flavored Ramune, one melon Ramune, and one strawberry Ramune. Both of us simultaneously chant our thank you to the guy a year older than us, which is only responded with a faint nod before he goes back to the court, where he can distribute the rest of the drink to the third-years. I didn’t put any attention to when everyone else named their order, but I could see that Ushijima is given a can of coffee, Tendou is given a can of cola, and Yamagata is given a box of something blue—I can’t quite tell, but probably it’s milk or yoghurt. Reon himself proceeds to sit next to Kawanishi’s laptop, opening a tube of potato chips with a plastic bag still full of other stuff in front of his crossed-legs. How convenient for an athlete.

“I’m back.” Less than thirty seconds have just elapsed when I hear Semi’s delicate voice. When I look to my right, I see the said guy standing at the gym’s entrance with Kawanishi trailing behind him. Previously, they only wore a black t-shirt and purple shorts. Now, they’re adding their white slash purple volleyball jacket as an outerwear. Maybe it’s just me, but Kawanishi looks so cool with both hands inside his jacket’s pockets. I think his height and messy hairstyle make up for the most of it.

“Eita, where did you go?” Reon throws a question from across the court.

“The dorm.” Semi may answer to Reon, but instead of walking to where his dark-skinned friend is, his feet traverse to the left—or to be precise, to me and Goshiki. Kawanishi doesn’t seem to be bothered by the sudden “break up”, so he just passes by us and goes forward. He must’ve missed his laptop that much.

“Semi-san, what did you take from the dorm?” I warmly greet Semi.

He smiles before kneeling both of his knees in front of me and that’s when I recognize a dark red drawstring bag in his right hand. “For you.”

“...hm? What?” I lift one of my eyebrows as I take the bag from his hand. It’s a bit heavy, but I’m sure that I won’t see two dead rats or frog heads inside. Semi is too classy to pull that kind of prank and if there’s one single person in this gym who’ll be mean enough to do that, it’ll be Tendou. Still, I loosen the upper string very carefully, just in case a small insect crawls out.

The very first thing that pops in my mind is that it’s dark inside. Not because of how moderately big and deep the bag is, but because there’s a black item that I can’t really describe before I take an overall look at it. Without waiting any longer, I tug whatever that can be. I part my lips a tad as my heart somewhat stops when I see a thick and long strap, together with some other layers made from neoprene.

“A shoulder support?” I guess. Truthfully, it’s not exactly a guess and more like a statement because what I currently hold is one hundred percent a shoulder support. I’ve been living in sport world since before I was born, so of course I know basic stuff like this.

“Mhm.” Semi’s smile doesn’t waver.

“Oh! Semi-san used that during Interhigh!” Goshiki shouts, showing that his awareness is taken by me once again.

“Yeah. Several days before Interhigh last June, I fell on the bathroom and hit my left elbow against the floor,” Semi lengthens Goshiki’s story. “But I wore this shoulder support and I could score with a jump serve like usual. It still hurt a bit, but endurable. This is a good quality one and can be used for male or female. The size is small to medium, so it should fit you.”

What? Wait. I don’t understand what he’s saying.

“Why would I need this?” I question Semi something more important than heaven and hell now.

“Well… Who knows you want to play a bit?” Semi shrugs as he provides me an answer that still needs a whole lot of elaboration. Does he give me this because he expects me to do a jump serve like before? Does he think I’ll recklessly play volleyball with the boys during the summer training camp? Does he assume I’ve forgotten my injury completely? Does he know that I can get murdered by my parents if bad things happen, especially because of my own wrongdoing?

“Just take it. Semi-san went to the dorm only for this, you know?” Goshiki advises me before moving back to playing his game. Surely, his words touch my heart in an instance, as if there’s a cupid who just shot a sharp arrow to me and him. I know that the boys’ dorm is still inside the school area. I understand that it’s not that far, even by walking, but Semi was thoughtful enough to bring this to me. How sweet that is?

“Thank you, Semi-san.” I neatly fold and put the shoulder support back in the bag. “But don’t expect anything from me, okay?”

“Hahaha. I’ll always expect something great from you, no matter which form it’ll take.”

I chuckle, might blush a little too. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Semi removes my uncertainty as he stands up, perhaps also because he doesn’t want to keep being here and triggering many more questions from me. “When you wear it, adjust the strap correctly on your chest. Place it above or below, not directly on the middle. It’s flexible, so it should be very comfortable. Okay?”

“Okay. Thank you again.” I unwittingly rock my head up and down, until I’m aware that Semi just talked about the strap position on my breasts. Instead of feeling shy, I’m actually flattered of his choice of words. I’ve met a lot of boys who would straight up say “breasts” and then giggle like a perverted prude. Once again I say, Semi is just too classy to behave that way.

After another enchanting smile, the silver-haired turns around to walk to Ushijima who’s still chugging down his beverage. I assume that Ushijima’s going to practice again because Shirabu is dragging a cart near Reon to the empty area behind the net. I have no idea concerning the setter’s precise plan, but I think he’s going to toss some balls for his captain to spike. I still need a concrete answer on why Shirabu is the main setter and not Semi because I really want to see the latter on the court, shining like a knight in silver armor all by himself. I’m sure he can be brighter than Oikawa, who’s always titled as the best setter in this prefecture.

“Hey, Shiki-chan,” I call Goshiki. “Ask me who my favorite _senpai_ is.”

“Hm?” Goshiki slants his head toward me. “Who’s your favorite _senpai_?”

“Semi-san.”

“Eh?!”

I cackle at Goshiki’s reaction. I don’t know why that’s shocking to hear? I understand Kawanishi’s feeling, could be even more with every passing day of getting to know everyone around here. Semi’s caring, selfless, elegant, talented, good-looking, it feels as though he’ll fulfil everything I dream about—he’s everything I wish for an older brother I long to have but unable to reach. Of course it’s him. It has to be him.

* * *

“You’re the worst!” I yell after I open the front door of my mother’s car. Goshiki does the same to the middle one, plunging himself in without saying anything because his energy is only less than five percent. My stance at the moment isn’t pleasant either. My left hand carries Semi’s drawstring bag that gets even heavier because I keep my strawberry Ramune inside and my right hand carries Yue attentively. My hair is also a mess because I just ran from Shiratorizawa’s sixth gym to the teachers’ parking lot within the stillness of night.

“Hahaha. Sorry about that!” my mother responds nonchalantly. That makes me click my tongue. Isn’t she the worst mother ever? No. “Worst” is too worth it to be used to describe what she has just done to me.

First thing first, I had a plan to beg my mother to drive Goshiki, Kawanishi, and Shirabu back home because of how late the time would be for them, but approximately at ten p.m., the last two excused themselves, together with Semi, Tendou, and Yamagata. The reason? Because they’re unable to hold their fatigue any longer. No one waited for me half-heartedly, I knew, but the way half of the gang yawned so many times during the past fifteen minutes made me feel horrible—if I didn’t feel that way, then I wouldn’t mind to be called a selfishly abnormal girl.

At the same time, Goshiki finally gave in and fell on my right shoulder. It took one frown on my face for him to snore, sometimes loudly, most of the time it’s akin to the purr produced by Yue who was still dreaming on my lap. Honestly, the cutesy level of that pose was beyond any philosophy and I was glad that Tendou wasn’t there to snap some pictures for his own satisfaction. Apart from that, Goshiki was just piteous as I was the one who should use him as my pillow, not the other way around.

At ten thirty, Ushijima finally stopped doing his endless jump serves. Correction to that—Reon finally told him to stop practicing because it’s getting too much to watch. That’s what people call “humor”. Reon had spent the last hour consuming potato chips while sitting leisurely on the sideline of the gym and the only treat Ushijima got was a can of coffee before he went back to increasing his top-notch skills even further. I understood that everything’s not for free, but working too hard would never be good either.

Reluctantly, Ushijima obeyed his friend’s words. He gathered all the balls from the ground and tossed them back to their carts. I wasn’t asked to help, but I would be a terrible human being if I didn’t do it on impulse, so I carefully pushed Goshiki away from my body. I positioned his head against the wall behind us and I made sure that he wouldn’t plummet—or at least if he did, I hope he wouldn’t severely bruise his forehead. The last thing I did before standing up was relocate Yue on Goshiki’s lap because again, the cold floor was too cruel for a lovely creature like him.

There weren’t many disarrays left behind, therefore Ushijima, Reon, and I only needed less than ten minutes to thoroughly clean the gym. The volleyball carts were hauled inside the storage room, the bottles were washed and hung on some racks so they could dry naturally, the nets were left behind as they’d be used again early in the morning. To summarize it in a shorter sentence, the three of us were prepared to leave the gym and go back to our respective bed—or for me, a bus seat. Then we went back to where Goshiki and Yue were currently sleeping.

I headed to my previous spot, while Ushijima and Reon seated themselves in front me, exhibiting some real muscles as the result of years of hard training. I mainly had a nice chat with Reon about trivial matters, such as my experience with Bokuto because surprisingly, Ushijima didn’t tell anyone a single thing about that. We also talked about summer in Tokyo that would absolutely be hotter than the one Miyagi. Reon was so sweet to remind me to stay hydrated all the time, even when I wouldn’t take a part in the training.

Hardly five minutes elapsed when I recognized that weariness began to take over Ushijima’s consciousness. He folded his legs up and kept them close to each other as he rested his chin between his knees. At first, his eyes were still wandering between me and Reon, but then he looked down, eyelids fluttering because he tried to fight himself to stay awake. I allowed him to leave early and let Reon who’s still fully alive to lock the gym, but he quietly declined. That’s just considerate and sad all at once. Though I wouldn’t force him away because then it’d be the same as rejecting his hospitality.

I got worried when the clock hit eleven p.m. My mother said she’d be back right around the time, but she was late. I checked my phone to see nothing from her, so I chatted the woman, asking where she was. There was no reply until ten past eleven. I was crazily fidgeting because I wouldn’t be able to reach Karasuno on time, which then turned into I wouldn’t be able to go Tokyo. I whined to Leon about my parents who’d always find their way to ruin my trip somewhere. He only laughed to that and Ushijima told me not to worry because that’s just his simple-minded way of thinking.

Then at last, I received a message from her at eleven fifteen. She ordered me to go to the teachers’ parking lot because she’s too lazy to walk back to the gym. I was too busy waking Goshiki and Yue to even get angry at how unconcerned her words were. After saying thank you to Ushijima and Reon, I sprinted out. I didn’t consider jogging or running as two valid options, unless if I wanted to be truly late. Goshiki was so perplexed at our current state and I totally understood that. The feeling of being woken up only to be dragged somewhere would always be one of the worst.

“Sorry, I utterly forgot about you,” my mother confesses as she drives us away from the parking lot.

I give her a dazed look as I wear the seatbelt over my body while trying to catch my breath. She forgot about me? Yeah, congratulations for her on that one. As if that’ll make the world a better place. The trip to Karasuno will consume roughly forty-five minutes in high speed, excluded the time for driving Tsutomu back home, which will take at least five minutes. In conclusion, I’ll probably arrive at Karasuno at twelve ten, or twenty to be safe.

Curse this woman. That’s way over the promised time.

“Seriously, I forgot. I had too much fun with Saitou-sensei.” My mother’s voice is mellow, but I can’t detect a hint of remorsefulness on her face. “So we’re going to bring Tsutomu to his house first? You should tell your friends that you’ll be late.”

“Yeah, because of you! You said you’d be back around eleven! If I didn’t contact you and if you didn’t open your phone, you’d probably remember that you have a daughter by morning!” I snarl at her insouciance, but it’s futile if all I get back is laughter. I might as well don’t protest about one single thing because then, I don’t need to expect any decent reply. If I don’t expect any decent reply, I won’t need to be cautious of hurting myself. Life can be that simple, so I won’t make it unnecessarily complicated.

I almost want to straightaway inform my club’s LINE group that my mother overslept, but then it won’t be believable because it’s still eleven p.m., thus I decide that I’ll chat them in thirty minutes. The story will be that my mother’s still on the way from her university because something unbeknown to me happened. I must wait because of two things—one, she doesn’t bring a house key and two, she’s going to drive me to the school. Another lie, but supported by a better structure.

* * *

“Thank you.” Even with a scowl on my face, I’m still tactful enough to feel grateful of my mother bringing me to the front gate of Karasuno High. I glance at the car clock that displays the number “00:14” before unbuckling my seat belt and leaving the car. I step sideways to open the middle door and grab a black travel bag from the farthest seat, then I stroke Yue’s body that’s closer to me several times. It feels as if something pinches my heart, but worry not, I’ll be back in a week.

Yes, a week. That’s seven days and there’s twenty-four hours in a day. I have no idea how much seven times twenty-four is, but I believe it’s more than one hundred five. Hundreds of hours without my Yue? Without his snug body, soft hair, restful face, comical sleeping behavior, and many more lists of how endearing he can be? That’s fine. I won’t mind.

No.

No, no, no. Why would I lie to myself? I’ve only had him for less than five days, but now we have to be separated for seven days? I’ll never be okay with this.

“Hurry up!” my mother roars, glaring at me from the rear-view mirror. “Don’t be that dramatic over a cat! I’ll feed him, don’t worry! He’s going to sleep all day long, anyway!”

“Way to ruin the mood. Thank you for that,” I groan before closing the door coldly. With drawstring bag on my left hand and travel bag on my right hand, I step forward, entering the gate that’s only less than three meters away from where my mother parks her car. Once I’m far enough, my mother continues her journey by making a sharp U-turn, almost striking me if I were only one step backward. I can feel a pang on my chest because now I can’t help but to think about Yue’s fate beneath her hands. I want to cry as I imagine how my savage mother will treat my little angel. He won’t break his neck and die—I have to at least believe that much.

All my negative thoughts worsen when I lift my head and catch the beautiful sight of the waxing crescent moon on the sky. It’s so white and unblemished, it reminds me of Yue even more and more. I need to find a help or at least an activity that can distract me from my cat. My innocent cat. How could I leave him alone with the likes of my mother? I need to chat my father and tell him to take a good look at Yue because I only trust his wife less than twenty percent, but my father is often out due to his job.

Forgive me, Yue. I’m such an irresponsible owner.

It doesn’t take long for me to get into the bus door that’s wide open. I step on it and I squint at the view of dying people—could be taken as literally. Azumane and Tanaka plus Yamaguchi and Hinata sit next to each other, snoring. Kageyama and Nishinoya sit on a single seat, drooling. Kei sits alone in the back—our usual place—silently still. His eyes are closed, but I’m unsure if he has gone to the dreamland that quickly. The only ones who are awake are Sawamura and Sugawara who coincidently enough, are seated near the entrance.

“Hello, sorry I’m late…” I murmur so I won’t unanticipatedly wake anyone.

“It’s okay, Ukai-san is also late and Takeda-sensei is going to his house now. Probably he oversleeps,” Sugawara replies with a friendly smile he’s always had.

“Ah, I see…” I nod my head as I notice that the only adults in our group are missing. Somehow, I feel relieved that I’m not the last one to arrive, although I won’t say it out loud.

I continue my step to the back of the bus when I realize that Kei has opened his eyes, presumably since I greeted Sugawara and Sawamura. Without articulating any word, he transfers two small bags on his left to his right. There are other boxes and bags, but he manages to shove them all into one crowded stack that won’t fall into him. If he does that sweet gesture, it’s not wrong for me to assume that he’s been patiently waiting for me to be by his side, am I right?

“Hey, it’s been a while,” I state as I drop my travel bag near my feet and Semi’s bag beside it. Slowly but surely, I drop my whole weight to the empty area next to Kei. Usually I’ll just land my head on his left shoulder, but this time, I present him a grin—maybe the biggest one I’ve projected on this entire Sunday—and take a good look at his handsome face.

“What?” he asks, golden eyes staring deep into me.

“How could you not know? It’s about us sitting next to each other.” I emphasize the word “us” to make him remember something we haven’t done for the past two weeks. I force him to be conscious of his unexplainable treatment toward me, how mean he was for always leaving me alone during night-time, how he didn’t even care if I got kidnapped by someone.

Promptly, he puffs a short breath before looking away to the front. “Unimportant.”

“Yeah. That’s why you cleared this spot for me. Don’t you ever think that someday I’ll get so sick of your _tsundere_ -ness?” I poke his cheek with my index finger, but he propels it away. I muffle my instantaneous urge to laugh, just because I don’t want to be an unwelcome alarm for everyone. Didn’t I just mention something about being _tsundere_? Whatever. It’s not that I loathe him for being this way and it’s not like anyone can change his personality in one night.

I don’t want to waste any time to turn his shoulder into my personal pillow. It feels like a downgrade after Goshiki’s, but better than nothing. Among everyone in Karasuno, I think Azumane has the best body for cuddling because he’s big and buffed. The worst will probably be Kei because of how lanky he is—and yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing with the lowest quality. Even I bet the small Hinata and Nishinoya will feel better than this.

“Hm?” I elevate my eyebrows when suddenly, my nose is struck by something quite different, coming from the glasses guy. “Vanilla?”

“What?” Kei quickly responds.

“Yeah, it’s vanilla. Since when do you have it? You’ve never used any perfume before this.” I keep sniffing the area around Kei’s collarbone. The sweet smell and the calming sensation—no doubt, it’s everyone’s favorite flavoring and fragrance. This one seems even stronger, compared to some candles my father often has in his room.

“Stop doing that. You’re not a dog.” Kei yanks his body sideways, but it’s not long for him to come back to my way because of how packed the back seat is. “I’ve had this since last Wednesday. Now stop it.”

“Since last Wednesday?” Ignoring Kei’s insult, I raise my head up, but because the only thing I capture within my field of vision is his pointy chin, I go back to enjoying his aromatic scent. “But I’ve never noticed.”

“Because I’m only using it after the club activity. I don’t like the smell of my sweat.”

“That’s silly. You should’ve used it in the morning.” Without any prior notice, I slip my arm between the gap of his left arm and waist. It’s not like he needs one because I believe he always anticipates this intimate move from me as I do from him.

“Up to me,” he coarsely retorts.

“But it’s so good. I want to smell it in the morning.”

He sighs, most likely tired of my never-ending touch and speech. “Then buy your own perfume. Aren’t you a rich princess? Go ask your parents to buy you ten branded bottles.”

“Share some of yours.”

“No.”

I chuckle, if only he knew how much I love seeing his irritated reaction. “Please?”

“Just shut your mouth and sleep.”

“The two in the back, please stop flirting? Your friends are sleeping.” My little chat with Kei is halted when Sawamura who’s in the front row warns us for going any further. “Even if you whisper, we all can still hear the two of you very clearly.”

“Yeah, right. Cuddling and smelling each other’s scent. I’m so jealous.” Nishinoya—who’s apparently isn’t deep asleep—follows that up, adding a jaunty laughter to the end of his short sentence.

“Nishinoya, be quiet as well.”

“Hahaha! Sorry, Daichi-san!”

No one here is insane enough to defy Sawamura’s ultimatum because if we pique the wrong switch, he’s able to lecture us for two hours. That won’t be pleasurable. Besides, I understand that what I just did was wrong. I’d be upset if people talk so much when I’m sleeping or more when I’m trying to sleep, so why would I do the same to other people? It’s difficult, but we must treat people how we want to be treated—now I wish Kei would understand this.

I’m already planning to call it a day by closing my eyes and assembling every segment of my dream, but the vanilla smell is too overwhelming that I can’t help but to snuggle even closer to Kei, letting my nose does all the work to guide me to sleep tonight. Before I submit myself to my drowsiness, I feel Kei entangles his right fingers with mine, then bringing our hands to the top of his left thigh. I’m far from surprised, but also far from feeling strange. That’s the reason why I tighten my fingers to his as a response, indicating how okay I am with his unique treatment.

I’m just wondering on why is he always like this? Acting all mean, but lending me his shoulder. Saying all hurtful things, but listening to my stories. Pushing me away, but pinching and stroking my cheeks in return. For sure he can be a stabler person, but that’s just a wishful thinking. I like him for the way he is now. Am I weird? Don’t answer because I won’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, when I proofread this chapter, I thought: Wth gurl? You hugged Ushi, you snuggled Goshiki, Shirabu bought you drink, Semi gave you his shoulder support, you and Reon talked the night away, and then you closed the day with sniffing Kei? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I'll kill you if you do the same to Kuroo and Akaashi. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I don't know why I'm jealous over my own character, but bizarre feelings can occur, okay?  
> Though I really want to have one Goshiki as my younger brother and one Semi as my older brother...  
>    
> Finally we're entering the summer training camp arc.......... after 23 chapters and 120k words.......... (￣Д￣)  
> I've been waiting to write about this arc since the first time I started this series. I swear it's my #1 checkpoint (?) and there are so many things regarding it that I can't get out of my mind for the past 3,5 months.
> 
> Now that my wrist is okay, I'll update the next chapter ASAP!  
> Thank you all for patiently waiting, giving kudos, subscribing, commenting, and everything. My love for you, wherever you are~ ♥
> 
> ps. Chiyoko will return in the future since there's a good reason why I wrote about her. :p


	24. Evolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You seem a bit down. Why’s that?”_
> 
> _“Well… If I could choose, I’d rather stay at home.”_
> 
> Of course. I’m not shocked at all to hear that kind of sentence being declared by him. I know it’s rude to think this way about my own clubmate and close friend, but among all of Karasuno’s starting players, he’s always been the dimmest one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say about updating ASAP? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Yeah, right. I should really stop saying that because lately I’ve been so swamped with my job.
> 
> First thing first, I want to announce that I’m definitely unable to update twice a week like before as I realized one thing: I used to post only around 4-5k words per chapter, but lately I always hit 8-10k. That’s the reason why it consumes double the time for me to write. I’m sure that’s not a problem because all of you have been so nice and supportive to me. ♥
> 
> Second thing second (?), several days ago I listened to [HQ web radio #55](http://www.j-haikyu.com/anime/radio) and the guest was Takeuchi Ryouta, the VA of Ushiwaka. Around 09:05, I’m sure he was asked: “What kind of character is Ushijima Wakatoshi?”  
> He answered: “Kawaii.”
> 
> OKAY USHIWAKA’S CUTENESS IS CANON AND LEGIT, NOT ONLY IMPLIED ANYMORE. Now can someone edit [his wikia](http://haikyuu.wikia.com/wiki/Wakatoshi_Ushijima)? It needs more accuracy!
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

Approximately at seven a.m., Yamaguchi wakes me up by jiggling my hands that are no longer linked with Kei’s, perhaps since hours ago. It’s a no brainer that I want to sleep a bit more, but I can’t continue the fantastic dream I had as I’ve become too aware of my surroundings. The sound of Hinata howling something, Kageyama chewing something, Tanaka and Nishinoya bickering about something, Sawamura warning everyone about throwing plastic wrap into a recycle bin, even the sound of the bus engine beneath my seat—they’re all too intense for me to ignore.

 

Gradually, I elevate my head away from Kei’s left shoulder as I fully open my eyes and blink rapidly. The first awakening light that creeps into my irises are followed by the sight outside of the window bus on my left. I see a lot medium-sized houses, green trees, and empty streets with only a few adults strolling with their casual outfits. If I didn’t register the fact of us not being in Miyagi, then I would’ve still thought that we weren’t too far from home. The same as two weeks ago in Nekoma, I have yet to see the crowds and city life big town like Tokyo is well-known about.

A moment later, Yamaguchi comes back to the back area of the bus with four packs of simple tuna _onigiri_. Two for me and two for Kei, although I don’t think it’s enough because I’m starving like a scrawny wolf. Fortunately, I’m not the one who’ll have to practice in an hour, hence it doesn’t matter if I want to fill my stomach until it’s bloated. With that in my mind, I ask for another two, now with grilled roe as the filling. As I finish the last bites of my forth portion, Kei is staring judgmentally and disgustingly at me. He’s acting as if eating only two is way more normal and healthier, especially for a growing teenager like us. I wish he would stop having that kind of mindset and start looking at the rest. They even eat way more than me because that’s just it.

I spend the next sixty minutes talking to both Kei and Yamaguchi—actually, eighty percent of the time I do it with the latter. Our number one topic is the summer homework which ranges from mathematic to social science to modern literature. Every student in Japan hopes in silence for the government to erase that stupid rule. We do get six weeks of holiday until the end of August, but wouldn’t it be better if we can rest calmly without thinking of demons and evils called “detention for not finishing homework” pursuing us? Or at least make it less. If the homework is only one or two pages, then it’s fine. Tragically, the ones my class currently has roughly need above twenty pages for the answers, excluding mathematic who oblige us to write all the formulas and explanations.

Purely annoying, but what can we do about that? Crying won’t help.

The speed of the bus that’s driven by Ukai falters once we enter a huge parking lot with some cars and motorcycles perfectly stationed in line. The view outside is a first to everyone because this time, we won’t be having our training camp in Nekoma, but in Shinzen. It’s located in Saitama—or what people usually considered as the suburbs of Tokyo, probably because the location is up to thirty kilometers away to the north. That’s the number one reason why no matter how extensive my field of vision expands, all I see is nothing more than the exact copy of Miyagi, only that there are more transmission towers and no hills nor sea around. And of course, no stars later in night.

Ukai parks our bus between some other busses that I believe belong to other schools and maybe some other clubs who are having their summer training camp here. I’ll find out later, albeit it’s unnecessary as it won't give me any benefit. Leaving some heavy bags for the second and third years to carry, I leave the bus with Kei behind me and Yachi in front of me. As soon as I’m out to take a breather of the new air, I spot some boys with black t-shirt and red shorts walking to our way. 

Unmistakably, they are Nekoma’s players and one of them is Kuroo, looking as handsome, tall, and well-built as how I always picture him to be. I know everyone around me can totally notice how my eyes are riveted on the spiky-haired guy. I know it can be shameful if people from Nekoma find out that a manager from Karasuno is taking an interest in their captain. I know it can be troublesome when Tanaka and Nishinoya are the ones who find out about this since they’ll start whistling and making some teasing remarks toward me. I know all of it, but I just can’t suppress my urge to enjoy the beauty that is Kuroo.

“There we go again.” Kei who stands on my right mutters a faint sentence to bring my sanity back to its place. I have no idea what his problem is, but still, I choose to hover my eyes to the pavement below me. My only intention of doing this is because I don’t want to look like a boiled crab in front of Kuroo.

There’s something acutely wrong with my brain, isn’t there? I’m not even behaving this way when I’m around the boys from Shiratorizawa. I will never say that Kuroo’s appearance is way beyond humanity because people like Semi, Ushijima, and Kawanishi are also drop dead gorgeous, but there’s just something about Kuroo that no one else is endowed with. Maybe his hairstyle? Maybe he way he stretches the tips of his lips to form a smug smile? Maybe his entire image? Yes, definitely the last one.

“Hm… It’s been two weeks, but Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun still haven’t talked to each other…” Yachi who stands in front of me frames her adorable face with a concerned expression. Her eyes are directed on something behind me and Kei, so I turn around to see Hinata who’s currently talking to Kenma and Kageyama who’s just idling near our bus’ door with half-closed eyelids.

Yachi’s comment was correct. It’s been two weeks since the day Hinata and Kageyama fought each other over trying a new technique. Unlike most of people here, I’m not that bothered because the very next day, Kageyama came to me and told me that he’d offer Hinata a chance. During the same two weeks, I know the former has been beating himself to achieve the preeminent solidity and precision of his new toss. The only problem now is that he has never practiced that with Hinata. Every time we had a match, he would still be the old him and Hinata would still close his eyes like usual, so I can’t wait to see what’s going to occur when the training camp officially begins.

“Yachi, what did I tell you before? You don’t have to worry.” I have no other choice but to sweep away Yachi’s uneasiness. “Today I bet they will—”

“Oh, Hime-chan!”

My heart misses a beat when a cheeky voice interrupts my brief conversation with Yachi. Let’s play a small game titled “who will call me with that nickname?”. It’s not Bokuto because I believe he’s currently inside of one of Shinzen’s gyms, most likely annoying the hell out of Akaashi. It’s also not Tendou because he’s a good four hundred kilometers away from where I am now. So who would that be? Hastily, I look to my left and the butterflies in my stomach are fluttering and bumping into one another when I find Kuroo walking so casually toward me with Sawamura beside him.

“Y-yes, Kuroo-sen—san?” I don’t know why I move a step backward. I don’t know either why I don’t dare to look into Kuroo’s dark eyes. My eyes opt to travel in circle but never to Kuroo—I notice Yachi giving me a funny yet confusing face and Kei is giving me a murderous glare. I still don’t understand what Kei’s actual problem is, but I couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Hm? Did you plan on calling him _‘senpai’_?” Sawamura asks me, but there’s no way I’ll come clean.

“Really? Kuroo-senpai, eh?” In my peripherals, I can see the peerless attractiveness projected by Kuroo’s alluring smirk. “That sounds very nice. You can call me that, Hime-chan. I don’t mind at all.”

Is it strange for me to feel like I want to leap to the sky and never go down? My heart doesn’t act like a train wreck. My cheeks might’ve reddened up a bit, but it’s not because I’ve fallen in love with Kuroo or what not—come on, I barely even know him and this is the first time we ever talk. Oh, then that must be the reason. I feel so unrefined and vulnerable because I’ve been wanting to talk to him and the time is finally here. I’m shy. I feel so uncool standing near someone as gorgeous as him, more than when I met Kiyoko the first time. Why? Because Kuroo is a guy and I’m straight, therefore he’s eligible in becoming the “one”.

Okay. I should stop dreaming because my brain is what should be treated as a train wreck.

“Anyway, Bokuto is looking for you. I swear he couldn’t shut up about meeting you again today, so you might want to be… extra patient since you’ll be around for a week,” Kuroo kindly reminds me and how I adore him more and more. Not only physically—though I won’t lie, it’s the first thing that captured me deep into his web.

“Thank you for telling me, um… Kuroo-senpai…” I gently stroke the back of my head before my fingers move to my nape and does the same gesture there. I taste something unnatural on the tip of my tongue because truthfully, I rarely call someone from different gender a _“senpai”_. Those who have the privilege are mostly the boys from my mother’s team who got quite close to me after months. I don’t even add that honorific to anyone in Karasuno, despite the fact that we’ve spent time together for hundreds of hours. Kuroo is just special and I’m blushing.

“Hahaha. You’re welcome. Now I’m going to leave because your scary boyfriend is ready to punch me.” Kuroo raises both of his hands—posing as if he informs Kei that he doesn’t come here to create drama. He doesn’t. That’s why after he goes back to his teammates with Sawamura, it’s my turn to scowl cynically at my “boyfriend”. I too can sense how Yachi is bewildered to be in the middle of us, but in some way, I know that she won’t try to interfere.

“What’s up with you? How many times have I told you to stop acting like my obsessive ancestor? Kuroo-senpai was so nice!” I snarl at the tallest guy around, both of my hands clenching so tightly as the result of my disagreement with his absurd manner. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful if he plans to protect me from Bokuto like the last time, but Kuroo is nowhere near that loud owl. Kuroo didn’t ask for my LINE ID, didn’t force me to play volleyball—he guilelessly didn’t do anything to degrade me, so I’m strongly at odds with whatever Kei has in mind.

“It’s just gross witnessing how fake you can get.” Kei haughtily smiles, showing that one specific expression I genuinely hate. “Faking your cuteness and increasing the pitch of your voice. I literally want to puke.”

I roll my eyes clockwise. “Say whatever you want, jealous.”

But right after I move my feet thrice forward, Kei roughly yanks my hair. Normally, he wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have my ponytail since there wouldn’t be anything to grab on. This time, he does that by seizing a big bundle of my hair. It hurts the surface of my scalp, especially that all the strands are a bit tangled from lying on the bus seat for hours. I groan, pinching a tiny portion of skin on the back of Kei’s palm because it’ll wound him more. As soon as he feels the pain and releases me, I rotate my body so he won’t have any more access to my head.

“Stop that! It’s not funny anymore! It’s never funny!” I put so much stress on my last sentence. To that, Kei only laughs nonchalantly, while Yachi smiles mysteriously. Is she giving a hint of how lovely my relationship with Kei is? If that is it, then Yachi is as silly as the others. Can’t they see how much I don’t appreciate the way Kei rumples my hair and increases the possibility of me going bald sooner than my grandparents? For God’s sake, I’m so done with this.

* * *

The first thing we do before going to the gym is to put our bags in the classroom slash temporarily bedroom we’re assigned to. Nekoma’s building is very alike to Shinzen and Karasuno—honestly, I think ninety-nine percent of schools in Japan have the same architecture as us—hence, we’re all gathered in this big building, where all the girls stay in the third floor and all the boys in a level below us. The only dissimilarity is that Shinzen is a lot bigger than Nekoma, but still way smaller than Shiratorizawa. Now I’m even more sure that in real-life, there’s no school that could beat the gigantic size of the swan school.

After setting my folded futon between Kiyoko and Yachi’s, I change my casual outfit into the gym one that consists out of white t-shirt and black trousers. Carefully, I comb my knotty hair—half thanks to Kei and the other half to the way I slept last time—and tie it high in my trademarked ponytail. The air conditioner in the classroom isn’t turned on, thus some parts of my body are already producing sweat. Kiyoko hasn’t done anything with her hair because she prefers to let it loose, but I’m sure she won’t be able to handle the heat by afternoon, while Yachi who has a short hair doesn’t have to do a thing about that.

Once our belongings in the room is well-organized, the three of us head downstairs, only to meet once again with Kei and Yamaguchi. I mean, I don’t mind with the latter, but the former still drives me crazy just by knowing how he always looks down at someone. I understand that it’s merely because he’s a pole. I understand that almost all the boys around me are similar to a herd of giants trying to devour a volleyball, yet my brain automatically tries to disqualify Kei as one of them. I’m battling my inner self to choose whether in reality, he’s one of my best friends or worst foes.

Locating myself behind the glasses guy so he won’t play around with my ponytail, the five of us continue our trip to the gym. Yamaguchi and Yachi are the only ones who speak the most, while Kiyoko and I sometimes give a response to small stories they retell, such as the schedule for today. From what I’ve known, it’s the same as the previous away game. Right now is around eight a.m. and we’re going to practice until one p.m., then lunch and resting until four before we continue our practice until eight. The curfew is at eleven, so there will be three hours well-used for individual practices. I’ll be with Azumane, of course.

Shinzen has a massive area built exclusively for gyms that are connected by long outdoor hallways, supported by pillars made from dark wood. As far as my eyes can zoom in, I count there are four huge gyms around me—even loftier than Shiratorizawa’s sixth gym. I believe there should be some more that I couldn’t spot as they’re hidden behind tall walls and leafy trees. Later if I have the time, I’ll probably explore the rest of the area with Kei, Yamaguchi, or Yachi. For now, the first gym is where I and everyone else must be at. It’s where all the teams will have their practice match until the end of this training camp.

“Hime-chan!!!”

Just after I enter the aforementioned gym, I gulp at the sight of Bokuto widening his arms and flapping them up and down hyperactively in the middle of the leftmost court, out of six that are spread out. What’s his purpose of doing that? Does he think I’ll run and throw myself into his embrace? And probably he’ll carry me bridal style and swing me sideways so dotingly? No. Just no way, never in a million years. I don’t even want that from Kuroo and Akaashi because I haven’t gotten to know them better.

“Bokuto-san, stop yelling like that…” My heart is in ease when I perceive the sound of Akaashi who’s dragging a volleyball cart behind Bokuto, back to the sideline where the majority of his team are standing. He glances at me and nods politely with a face and a pair of eyes as stunning as the blue sea back in Miyagi. I’m always at loss of words to describe how much I love the way he looks at someone. As a good girl who adores him as much as I adore Kuroo, of course I reply the nod with a warm smile.

“Wait a minute, Hime-chan!” Bokuto seemingly notices the difference I give to him and his setter. “Why are you ignoring me, but not Akaashi?!”

“Because you keep pestering her, Bokuto-san…” Akaashi explains in my behalf, then Bokuto cries all by himself because Akaashi doesn’t sugarcoat anything.

I merely chuckle as a final response to that. The next thing I do is walk to the right side of the gym, to the sideline where Takeda and Ukai are talking casually to each other. My destination isn’t them, but the blue cooler bags full of empty water bottles we’ve carried from Karasuno that are kept beside their feet. Kiyoko, Yachi, and I must fill them and we also have to prepare clean towels for our players. With this, I can clearly feel how fatigue from the netherworld begins crawling toward us, ready to crisp up our skin and lungs.

* * *

I don’t have any particular comment when Takeda announces that Fukuroudani will be our first opponent for the day. I too don’t have any objection when Bokuto shouts to his team, telling them not to get any penalties. Among everyone in this building, Fukuroundani is the only team who has continually gone to the nationals for the past few years or so. I believe that winning fifty matches without losing even one is a piece of cake for them. Karasuno is the one to worry about, regarding how bad we did during the away game two weeks ago.

“Kage.” I scoot to the main setter of my team who’s now retying his shoelaces on the floor. “Are you finally going to try on your new toss?”

He lifts both of his eyebrows as he gazes attentively at me. “Yes, I’ve been planning to do it during the camp.”

“I see.” I get down on my knees and whisper so the others won’t hear, “If it doesn’t work, communicate with Hinata, okay? Everyone’s worried stiff about the two of you… our main weapon.”

Kageyama goes silent, eyes a moment on me then back at his shoelaces. If I have to guess the reason, it’s most likely because he takes my advice deep into his mind and ponders hard on it. I can say this because he isn’t the type of person who’ll talk out a problem so comfortably like Nishinoya. When something happens, he’d rather keep it for himself and fix it with his own strength. He’s not doing that with volleyball. He has long trusted everyone in Karasuno to hit his toss. Unfortunately, his problem with Hinata isn’t only about their connection on the court, but also about their relationship as two friends—good friends who have spent months understanding each other.

I sigh as I rise from the floor and walk back to the sideline where I’m going to spend the next thirty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast Karasuno will lose this time. Am I being too pessimistic over the team I mend myself? No, I’m solely being realistic. Even a team as well-balanced as Aoba Jousai might not stand a chance against Fukuroudani. I won’t say this out loud because I don’t want to provoke anyone, but I don’t mind betting a million yen that during seven days of being here, Karasuno won’t win a single set if the opponent is only Fukuroudani. Well, unless if a group of skillful volleyball angels suddenly possess them. We all know that fantasy will never happen in real life.

The first set begins with our usual starting line—Hinata, Kageyama, Kei, Yamaguchi, Sawamura, Azumane, Tanaka, and Nishinoya—while the other team has Bokuto, Akaashi, and five other people whom I can’t recognize when I stumble upon them in the streets. I think the dirty-blonde guy is called Konoha—I remember this because I used to watch Naruto years ago and Konoha was the name of Naruto’s village. Then if I’m not mistaken, their libero’s first name is Haruki something because it reminds me of my mother’s first name, Haruka. Murakami Haruki, perhaps?

No, wait. Murakami Haruki is that critically acclaimed novelist, isn’t he? I swear to earth and all the living beings, I should learn to stop forgetting people’s name and even if I do, I should just apologize then ask. Surely after that, I must memorize it well, maybe mumbling the name several times until it’s planted patently in my brain. For some bizarre self-prophecies, I have a bad feeling that I can get into deep trouble because of this small trait of mine. Whatever that could be, it’s better to prevent it now from happening later in the future.

“Hey, watch Hinata and Kageyama,” Takeda who stands next to my right alerts me. Could it be that he realized how my mind just got off somewhere far? Without protesting, I fixate my focus back at six boys on the court in front of me.

The game has just started less than half a minute ago. The first ball that’s served by Fukuroudani is received flawlessly by Nishinoya, back to Kageyama. This is it. The moment of truth.

I widen my eyes. It truly is a “toss that falls”. It showcases Kageyama’s potential as a genius who can learn a new technique within a number of days, but sadly, that “toss that falls” doesn’t fall anywhere near Hinata as the spiker Kageyama intends to aim at. The orange-haired should’ve positioned himself a step closer to the setter and angled his body roughly fifty-five degrees to the left, then the tips of his right hand might be able to touch the ball. Simply put, that was an epic fail.

No wonder when a small commotion is caused by that. Duo Nishinoya and Tanaka laugh synchronously while questioning Kageyama’s stability, making the junior gritting his teeth, maybe trying to suppress the increasing redness on his lean cheeks. It’s not that people don’t expect him to make a single fault, but that was truly way below his average ability, something that we would never expect from a star player like him. Another interesting thing is how Hinata is just being still while staring at the ground or the net ahead of him—I can only see his back, so I have no idea what kind of face he’s making at the moment.

“It’s okay! We’ll get it back after this!” Sawamura claps both of his hands, a second before the referee blows his whistle as the permission for both teams to proceed with their game.

Since we lost the point, Fukuroudani gets a chance to serve again. Same as before, Nishinoya receives the ball and brings it to Kageyama. My eyebrows furrow as soon as I realize that Kageyama’s movement has become rougher than before. He seems more furious too. I suppose the loss from before is successfully getting on his nerves? If that’s correct, then Kageyama needs to eradicate that habit because of how badly it can affect his play.

“It’s too far now!” I unconsciously exclaim when Kageyama sets a higher and faster toss to Hinata who jumps on the left side of the court. Just like I’ve predicted, Hinata is unable to touch the ball with his right hand, let alone to spike it. If this keeps happening, then it’s the best if Kageyama tosses the ball to Kei, who’s our other middle blocker.

All my skepticisms fly away in an instance when Hinata immediately saves the ball with his left hand and pushes it into the other side, scoring a point for us. Two Fukuroudani’s boys who are face to face with him couldn’t even move an inch because that act was an unexpected one. Everyone here thought we would just lose another point, even I did too. So now comes the question of what did I just witness? Was that merely a luck? Knowing how nine out of ten times my prowess of reading the future is always accurate, did a skillful volleyball angel really just possess Hinata?

“He’s become way smarter and calmer than before,” Kiyoko who stands on my left vocalizes her opinion. I rock my head up and down a couple of times before glancing up at Ukai who’s smirking all by himself without any glint of astonishment. He seems to anticipate Hinata’s last move, as if that was a confidential plan all along.

“What’s the matter, Ukai-san? You don’t have anything to say about Hinata?” I question Ukai, just so I don’t have to play a game of guesstimate.

“I’m not surprised about him.” Ukai folds his arms in front of his chest, eyes still concentrating on our team that’s already picking up their mistakes and resuming the match. “He’s been practicing with my grandfather.”

“Eh?!” I yelp at the new information I get. “The famous Ukai Ikkei?!”

Ukai giggles. “Yes, for the past two weeks after the club activity.”

I’m amazed. During the past two weeks, our club activity ended at six p.m., but almost all of us continued practicing our individual skill until eight p.m. The only two who went back home first were Kei and Yamaguchi—Kei because he was lazy and Yamaguchi because he wanted to practice his jump float serve with Shimada. Hinata was always around until Sawamura locked the gym, so in conclusion, he didn’t head back home like the rest of us did. Instead, he went practicing with Ukai’s grandfather until I have no idea how late—nine? Ten? That’s an insane amount of hard work. It reminds me of Ushijima.

I try to brush away any assumption about Hinata’s timetable because now is Azumane’s turn to serve. It’ll be too big-headed of me to call him my “student”, but I can’t help but to blame myself if he’s still not improving to the level of being dependable. I need to underline that I don’t expect him to keep performing a solid jump serve after jump serve like other people who have mastered theirs for years. We don’t need to comprehend the basic of mathematic to understand that the word “years” can’t be compared to “two weeks of time”. What I solely need is Azumane’s technique and form to be error-free.

And here we go—Azumane tosses his ball up, runs, leaps forward, smashes the said object, and the result is a bit out of the end line. I have to admit, it was a powerful jump serve. The technique was six, the form was seven, it was fine. The only thing Azumane needs to fix is how to control his speed and the hardest one is how to pick a good spot so the opposing team will have a minimum chance to receive it. Still, there are many things missing from him. Is it the way he swings his arm? Perhaps the way he jumps and raises his legs? Maybe all of those combined?

Needless to say, Ushijima could do this better. When I saw him doing countless of jump serves yesterday night, his form and techniques were above excellent, even when he still missed some. I haven’t done arm wrestling with any of them, but I do believe that Ushijima is only a bit stronger than Azumane. Let’s say Ushijima’s grip strength is seventy kilograms, while Azumane’s is sixty-five. That being so, Azumane could’ve done so much more than this. I don’t know how to articulate my viewpoint well enough, but I’m dying to see Azumane being better than what I just witnessed.

The rest of the set is a plainly mess. Nishinoya tries to do a libero toss, fails miserably. Then everyone tries to do a synchronized attack with Kageyama and Sugawara as a setter, but both look like a bunch of snotty kids attempting to imitate what professionals do in J-Sport. There are some moments when I have to bite my tongue to hold my laughter, while across of me, I see Nekoma’s old coach cackling elatedly—either because he sees Karasuno as a comedic act or he pities us.

Another thing that catches my attention the most is Kei, second to Kageyama and Hinata. He doesn’t seem to devote a quarter of his effort to this match. He doesn’t jump nor block with all his might. When his teammates are discontented about our current state, he doesn’t seem to care that much. I know that it’s just his personality, but this time, he shows a worse lack of concern than usual. Honestly, I’m worried. So many things come to my mind, so many suppositions of what Kei might feel about this whole training camp.

But to think of it, isn’t he very similar to Kawanishi? Both have the same sort of aloofness surrounding them and an aura that basically says “I’m not in the mood on doing anything”. I haven’t asked anyone regarding Kawanishi’s precise height, but I’m sure he’s the same as Kei. Even if there’s a difference, it won’t be more than five millimeters. Yet, Kawanishi is a superb blocker. Every single time I saw him play, he would constantly smack down many balls within a set. I wish Kei could be more like him—calm, observing, but useful. Is it too impossible to come true?

* * *

Just like what I thought of, Karasuno gracefully lost the match against Fukuroudani in less than forty minutes. The first set was ten to twenty-five, the second set was twelve to twenty-five. At least they got two more points for the second set, but I know that sounds more like a sarcasm than a praise. The gap between them and Fukuroudani was more than ten and Shiratorizawa is a better team. Meaning, Karasuno would probably only get three points if for some unprecedented luck, they are granted the one in a million chance to face the latter during Spring High. It’ll surely humiliate everyone—Ukai as a coach, me as a manager, and Karasuno as our school.

After the players gather themselves back to the sideline, Ukai instructs them to keep on doing what they’re doing. People who have zero idea about sports will disagree as they will consider the most logical option for them is to change strategy. That will be the case if the players are untalented and their only purpose is just play blindly. Karasuno isn’t like that and Ukai understands. That’s why he allows everyone to mess up here and there because the main purpose is for them to find a solution. It can be said that Karasuno is in the middle of evolving into something outstanding.

“So the penalty is to sprint up the small hill back there,” Kiyoko tells me as she, Yachi, and I kneel on the sideline, filling all the empty water bottles. Among everyone else, Nishinoya is the one who drinks the most. I’m suddenly puzzled because he barely goes to the toilet, so where does he save all of those water? Maybe throwing it away through sweating? Nah, I’m sure it doesn’t work that way.

“It’s only once right? It’s bearable,” I respond nonchalantly. I haven’t taken a good inspection of the hill there but from far, I can already see that though the shape is sloping, it’s actually not that long. Even Yachi can run twice without being all exhausted.

“Once? No,” Kiyoko straightaway corrects me. “They must run four laps.”

“What?! Four laps?!” I spontaneously squeak at how inhuman that can be, while Yachi can only drop her jaw. “Wait, wait, you mean back and forth is counted as one?!”

“Hahaha, no, the coaches won’t be that cruel.” Kiyoko waves her left hand up in the air. “Back and forth is counted as two.”

I heave a sigh of relief. I can’t imagine the hassle developed from my baby boys running up and down the hill under the burning sun for eight times in total. Not only for them, but also for me who cares so deeply about them. Probably I’ll weep together with Yachi, because we won’t be able to hide our empathy for that long. At last, that might also be the one time where Kiyoko will shed a tear for Nishinoya and Tanaka.

“Will Kageyama and Hinata be okay?” Yet again, Yachi asks the same question. She appears to be fond of those two the most, but I won’t be hypocrite by saying that it’s bothersome because I feel the same way toward Kei. Set that aside, I also think that Yachi is a bit traumatized because she was there when Hinata and Kageyama fought each other. She isn’t someone who has a lot of experience around male friends, so no wonder if that scarred her mental quite hard.

“Yeah, I’m also worried because Spring High is only less than a month away,” Kiyoko adds as she closes the lid of Yamaguchi’s orange bottle and mount it back to the silver rack near my crossed legs. “I’m afraid if this won’t work, Ukai-san will swap Hinata with someone else. The players who are benched aren’t as bad as people think.”

“I-I also think that Azumane-san’s jump serve is getting better, but is it safe enough to be used every single time in an official match?” Yachi averts her eyes from Kiyoko to me, albeit her hands don’t stop from working on filling the bottles we have around.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that safe. I’m sure he’ll miss three out of five times. We have to minimalize it into one out of five, leastwise.”

“Hm… About Azumane… You might want to find videos of people with the same physique and spiking form as him.” Once again, Kiyoko takes over the conversation.

“What do you mean?” I throw a question back as I put down Ennoshita’s bottle that I just filled. With this, we’re all done with everything and we only have to carry the racks outside. Once the boys are done with their penalty, we’ll let them drink before refilling the bottles again. Our job surely is repetitive, but as long as we enjoy it, we mustn’t care of what others could say.

“Azumane is a person who can learn by watching only if it’s from someone with the same style as him. Why do you think he can’t just learn from Kageyama? It’s because Kageyama has a different posture than him,” Kiyoko answers vividly, giving emphasis on “only if”. “When we were in our first year, there was this third-year  _senpai_ who had the same height and spiking form as Azumane. By watching him, Azumane learned how to do a straight spike.”

I expand my lips a tad until it forms a round. Is that so? Could that really be our freeway ticket? If it’s verifiable, then I might’ve founded the resolution already. And yes, I wish Kiyoko would tell me sooner about this.

* * *

“Good job.” I smile widely as I hand Kei his water bottle and towel. With a weary expression and no words to utter, he takes both items from my hands. Promptly, he drinks from the bottle in his left hand and pats away all the wetness on his face using the towel in his right hand. His breathe is far from steady and his beautiful eyes are wavering, somehow losing focus or maybe something deeper than that.

To phrase it easier, I was right. Kei doesn’t seem to be okay. I want to blame him for not eating enough  _onigiri_ this morning, but a voice in my mind telling me that food has never been and will never be a problem with how he appears to be so demotivated about volleyball. Should I blame the burning season? People shouldn’t take heatstroke that calmly. It’s considered as a medical emergency because the patient can damage their heart, brain, and get many more complications that can lead to the worst fatality—death. As much as Kei has angered me throughout these four months of knowing him, I will never wish for anyone or anything to take his life.  

“Kei, are you sleepy, dizzy, hungry, or something?” Out of compassion, I don’t think twice to ask about his health condition.

“No.” His answer is concise. He gazes down at me for only less than five seconds before looking away to the lime-colored hill behind. I don’t have the gift to read someone’s mind, but from the gloominess I detect in his golden irises, I suppose he’s a bit angry for having to run through the hill for that many times.

“You seem a bit down. Why’s that?” Again, I force him to answer my next question.

“Well… If I could choose, I’d rather stay at home.”

Of course. I’m not shocked at all to hear that kind of sentence being declared by him. I know it’s rude to think this way about my own clubmate and close friend, but among all of Karasuno’s starting players, he’s always been the dimmest one. I’m not talking about his physique since he’s the tallest one. It’s regarding his bearing, how he presents himself as soon as he enters the court. He’s encircled by prominent players who actively jump, run, scream, and move. He has never tried to make a name for himself through his play, therefore he’s nothing more than a bush between colorful flowers. He could be the easiest to spot because of his unique shape, but he won’t be the one people will take a second glimpse at.

Is it wrong if I’m sad because of that? I’ve said this so many times and there might not be a day when I’ll give up on professing it over and over again—I want nothing but the best for Kei. He doesn’t seem to be that passionate about volleyball, then why is he joining our team? Just like what Yamaguchi told me two weeks ago, if Kei hated volleyball, he wouldn’t even go that far by coming to the club practice for every single day, even during Saturdays. It was only the last two weeks where he just went back home earlier than the rest, but I wouldn’t say that he didn’t put any effort. He did by still being with us until six p.m.

“What are you looking at me like that?” Kei’s voice and dents on forehead bring my consciousness back to the real world. I blink my eyes a couple of times before wobbling my head like a clueless chicken.

“Nothing, but… Um… If you have any problem, please tell me, okay?” I offer him my kindness with a sweet smile.

“Hahaha. Unlike you, Princess, I’m someone with zero insignificant problems.” He wraps his towel around his neck before raising his right hand closer to my face. I hop a step backward, just in case he wants to pull my fringes or ponytails. Seems like that was the case because he revises his route to caress my left cheek ever so lovingly.

“What are you—” My dissaproval is stuck in my throat when I sniff this old pleasant scent. “What is this? Even your wrist smells like vanilla.”

“Really?” He takes back his hand and brings it closer to his nose, but then what I perceive from him is an appalling expression. “Are you out of your mind? It reeks heavily of sweat. You can only smell a bit of vanilla.”

I bite my lower lip while looking down and fidgeting my feet like I’m trying to hold my bladder. Should I be honest with him? Will he run away if I do? Because what I want to say is that I don’t mind—I mean, I never hate the smell of his sweat. Before this, he has never worn any kind of perfume, yet I never complained about a single thing when I snuggled deep into his after-practice chest. It was never bad. He doesn’t stink like my father’s leather shoes. It’s not the best nor the freshest, obviously, but it was okay. Now it’s even nice when mixed with the irreplacable vanilla fragrance.

“…don’t tell me…”

I raise my head to seal my eyes back with Kei. “What?”

He clicks his tongue either seriously or jokingly before walking pass by me. “You’re nasty.”

What is this? Am I a textbook? The answer is no because I’m a human being. Then why is Kei super capable of reading me that easily? Are we really a pair of husband and wife? Or twins, to be exact? Did we share the same brain in our previous life? This is getting too conflicted to be written into proper sentences.

“Hold on! Wait! Don’t misinterpret anything!” I howl, pulling the back of Kei’s shirt and making him stop all at once because my injury has nothing to do with my capability of ripping any kinds of sewing stiches.

Surprisingly enough, he stops moving his lean feet and turns around. The look on his face is indescribable—something that I can’t really put into words. For sure he’s not mad nor queasy like before. The closest word I can use is that he looks amused. Wait, what the hell? Don’t tell me that in fact, he’s flattered because someone appreciates the natural aroma produced by his body. Then isn’t he the abnormal one here?

“W-what?” I switch on my defense mode when I see a smirk framing Kei’s thin lips. I wish I didn’t stutter at first because according to many people, that could prove that I’m actually a bit fearful right now.

“Hang on.” Kei drops the water bottle in his left hand on the grassy ground below before beckoning me by slowly swaying both of his hands. “You should take care more of yourself.”

“Huh?” I lift one of my eyebrows, stunned at Kei’s unanticipated affection.

“Here.” Since I don’t come close, he takes over the job by stepping onward six times until there’s only one centimeter space between us—more like between my face and his collarbone. I don’t move the slighest because I’m curious on what he’s planning to do and could be also because I’m still dazed by his _you should take care more of yourself_.

Delicately, he moves his slender fingers on the fringes around my temples and wipe them away from covering my eyes. His left hand shifts to the back of my head. That gentle motion startles me bit because I predict he’s going to play around with my ponytail, but he doesn’t. I shiver to the feeling of his fingertips brushing against my right ear, then to the smooth skin of nape. He must feel the goose bumps there and I don’t have power to prevent that from happening.

“Wait, Kei…” I catch his left wrist with my hand, halting whatever he’s trying to do next. “Stop. This is weird…”

“Is it?” Abruptly, Kei simpers and uncoils the towel from his neck, shoving the damp fabric onto my face without hesitation. Exactly. This is his plan all along. I was so naïve for thinking that he would become tenderhearted without any substantial reason.

Now what’s his point of treating me this way? Am I even considered as a breathing flesh and blood, far from a doll he can mess around with?

“That’s disgusting! Stop it!” I use my ten fingers to take a good hold of his right arm and try to propel him away, but I can’t. I’m using all the power from my upper body, yet I’m still nothing if he envelopes me this tightly. I hate myself for being weak. After this training camp is done, I’ll look for a place learn taekwondo or any other form of self-defense.

“I thought you liked it?” Kei proceeds to knead the towel so harshly.

“Kei! I can’t breathe! Stop trying to murder me every single time we’re together!” And I’m not kidding. Please count how many times Kei has strangled my neck until I have a hard time breathing. This time is the same. It’s not like I’m wholly restrained from getting a supply of oxygen, but I’m not letting random viruses entering my nostrils. I said I was okay with Kei’s scent, but not in a form of wet towel like this. Damn, I wish I could explain it better.

“Don’t exaggerate, please.”

“Kei!” I prick Kei’s arms with my fingernails, but it’s futile because I’ve groomed them neatly yesterday afternoon. I change my plan to kicking his legs with mine. Again, everything is pointless. I’m too frail and short. If I were Yachi, I’d die months ago.

“Hahaha. Just enjoy your privilege of smelling my sweat.”

“Kei!!!”

“Stop fighting back.”

“Kei!!!”

“You two!!! Stop!!!” Sawamura roars and that’s the end of the little quarrel between me and Kei, my beloved friend who now thinks that I’ve developed a fetish of smelling his sweat. He swaddles the towel back around his neck as he satisfyingly laughs. It doesn’t take any additional second for him to grab his bottle from the ground and enter the gym without any form of “aftercare” for abusing my face.

Did he call me nasty? Yes, indeed. The nasty one is me and never his personality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh, I must cut the story here because the next part is connected to other momentous parts (?), therefore can’t be separated. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)
> 
> Fyi, when Kei called the heroine “Princess", I didn’t write it as “Hime-chan” because in Japanese, Kei would use “Oujo-sama”, the equivalent of Kageyama’s King “Ou-sama”. Also from Google translate, “The Cursed Princess” is 呪われた王女 or _norowareta ōjo_. CMIIW, but this is pretty awesome and I don’t know why I googled only after the 24th chapter...
> 
> Thank you for reading and see you again!


	25. Same Starless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So…” At first, I thought Kei was going to sit down on the bench, but he just stands still while fixating his sight at me for a second and up at the sky. “It seems like your injury is completely healed?”
> 
> I’m unable to speak. Not because of the strangeness in his question, but the fact that he might call me only to ask that. If it were Ukai or Takeda, I could understand because they’re my guardians, but Kei? It’s not him to waste his free time this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Somehow, lately I've been falling in love deeper with Kei. ☽ Is it because we finally enter February, the month of love? #IsNot
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

I lean my side against the wooden frame of Shinzen’s first gym’s back entrance, where I can clearly watch twelve boys running uphill with some motivational shouting here and there. I can’t seem to recount the story well enough, but today everyone has played ten matches in total, ranging up until twenty five sets. For all the hours spent, they lost every single one of it and had to recompense by doing the dreadful penalty. What lies in front of me now is the last penalty of the night, but I’m sure that no one here feels restful as there are still five and a half days to overcome—which also means, their ligaments will probably tear by the time we drive back to Miyagi.

Just before I see the boys reaching the summit, I turn around to the gym that’s more peaceful than how I remember it ten minutes ago. If there used to be seventy to eighty people scattering on every corner, now there are only less than twenty heads—some are even picking up their belongings from the floor, ready to leave and perhaps have a nice dinner or rest for a moment. The time of the clock hung on the wall shows a quarter past eight p.m. and the last time we filled our stomach was at one or two. That’s a good six to seven hours gap. No wonder if many of us can’t handle the growling sound effect our stomach makes, particularly males who need more calories to survive.

“Kiyoko-senpai, I’m going back first, okay?” I excuse myself to Kiyoko who’s quietly sitting on one of the folded black chairs located on the sideline near the back entrance. Yachi went to the toilet just a moment after the practice officially ended, while Ukai and Takeda are talking with some coaches from other teams diagonally across the court.

“Oh?” The beautiful lady raises her eyebrows. “You’re not going to practice with Azumane?”

My first reaction is to snigger, but not because I look down to the weight of her question. “Of course I will, but I need to do something quickly. If Azumane-san’s looking for me, please say that I’ll be back soon.”

“Ah, okay.” She nods once, giving me permission that I don’t necessarily need.

“Thank you.” I wave my right hand as I walk forward to the main door of the gym that’s wide open, with some tall bodies going in and out so casually. I pass by Lev and Yaku from Nekoma, and even if I’ve never had a proper talk with them, we still know each other by name. That’s the sole reason why I smile when our eyes meet and they respond the same way. People here are so sweet and polite that it makes me feel at home, even without the need of uttering any sugary remarks.

As soon as my shoes land on the long hallway outside the gym, my eyes are glued up to the dark sky above. I’ve known this since the sun went completely down an hour ago, yet I can’t help but to complain once again about how discontented I am. It’s not because of the shades of black the sky chooses nor the creepiness its void projects. It’s simply because of all the unseen stars, all the glimmers I hope I wouldn’t miss for seven days straight. I thought being in Saitama would allow some lights in, even if it’s only a bit more than when I was in Nekoma. Evidently, that will never happen. Now my only wish is to have the next training camp in a rural neighborhood, closer to Miyagi or someplace like Tochigi is a whole lot better.

I’m not surprised to see the emptiness in the school building which everyone will treat as a shelter for the week. Throughout my way upstairs to the third floor where the managers’ room is located, I can only spot three boys from Ubugawa entering the toilet on the second floor. There must be some other who are currently occupying their respective room, but I’m sure the amount won’t be as many as those who are still outside. In conclusion, let’s just wait until it’s above ten p.m. and all the chaos from the gym will be transferred to this building. I want to know how many of the third-years will scold their juniors tonight.

I slide open the door of the first room that people will see once they arrive on the third floor. I’m the first manager to enter this place as the others are still busy back in the first gym, but instead of being creeped out by how hollow the atmosphere around me is, I feel reborn because of the sudden burst of coldness against the unpleasant stickiness of my skin. It feels as though it’s been six months since the last time I felt this kind of breeze. I don’t know who turned on the air conditioner in this room for us—maybe one of the coaches or managers, maybe one of the securities or even the cafeteria ladies. Nonetheless the answer, I’m forever thankful.

I proceed to walk the futon on the northeast of the room and kneel both of my feet in front it. My main objective isn’t the now-rolled-out white mattress, but the dark red drawstring bag on top of it, just beside a black travel bag. I haven’t touched the inside of any of those carriers since yesterday afternoon before I had to leave home for Shiratorizawa. During the afternoon break today, I spent the entire time sleeping until three thirty p.m., then eating until four. Even when I wanted to tie my hair, Yachi was the one who lent me her comb. I was so tired and busy to even check on other things, including my phone. In my opinion, wasting five minutes for resting is way better than texting or talking to someone else that could take double the time, especially when the topic is getting more interesting.

Wasting no time, I loosen the string of the drawstring bag with all my fingers. I gasp when I’m aware of my poor memory—how I totally forget about the strawberry Ramune I intended to give to Kei before we drove our bus from Karasuno to here. I suppose there’s no explanation needed on why this carbonated drink is lukewarm and sadly, it’s the best when served cold. I don’t know if I can put this in the cafeteria’s refrigerator, but I’m going to ask the ladies there when I have a dinner later. It should be okay because this is merely a safe drink, not alcohol.

Enough with all the blabbering about the Ramune. The next thing I do is more essential than anything—which is to pull out the black shoulder support Semi has entrusted me. I exhale a deep breath as I remember when Kiyoko told me about Azumane who can learn well by watching only if somebody is capable to emulate the way he plays. The minute I heard that, I instantly knew that I could be that person for him. I’ve watched him play for months since I joined the club and I’ve watched it even closer for the past two weeks since he asked me to teach him. Other than that, my capability is simply enough for helping him more than this.

Am I being too conceited now? But my confidence isn’t unproven. It’s not like I’m an unskillful kid who admits that she can do stuff better than my mother who’s been a professional in the volleyball world for more than three decades. It’s not like I’m a small worm trying to be a dragon. I’m already a powerful dragon with diamond scales and I want to aid other weaker dragons to become a better version of themselves. I’ve done one great jump serve last night. Today won’t be any different. Instead, I can improve since I know that my shoulder won’t throb painfully when I move. Who I am now is nowhere near what I always thought about myself, although yes, I still have to be very careful.

This is officially the first time I take a good look at the support. It’s smaller than I thought it would be, but if it fits Semi, then no doubt it’ll fit me. My fingers start to detach the strap before I drop the item on the futon so I can use both of my hands to pull off my shirt. I’m baffled on whether I should remove my bra because wearing double straps—the one from my bra under the one from the shoulder support—can feel quite uncomfortable, but once I attach the strap so neatly and carefully over my left shoulder down to the area under my right armpit, I don’t feel that odd. It sure is a bit weird because of something long and tight wrapping the skin above my breasts, but as soon as I stand on the court, I’m sure the feeling will go away by itself. I can be this certain because I know myself and I know that my focus will be taken away by the volleyball and people around me.

I wear back my t-shirt before closing the drawstring bag and moving to unzip my travel bag. I scavenge the inside to find a fine-tooth black comb and a phone that I haven’t touched for more than twelve hours. I try to turn on the gadget by pressing the right side button, but of course, the battery is empty. It’s impossible for smartphones nowadays to have a battery life longer than ten hours, even when the screen is completely turned off. Now there are two last things that I must do quickly—charging my phone and retying my hair. Azumane isn’t going to punch me if I’m a bit late, but the adrenaline within my soul subconsciously makes me rush myself out.

* * *

The first thing I see when I arrive at the first gym is that almost everyone from Karasuno is divided into small groups. Yachi is talking to Hinata and Kageyama on the middle court with a volleyball cart next to them—I assume she’s going to help them with their new quick and seemingly, the duo is starting to speak to each other again. All the second and third-years are sitting in circle on the sideline near the back entrance, watching something on a big tablet that Daichi holds tightly with both of his hands. Kiyoko is still on the same location as before I left, but now she’s reading a light purple notebook that she always uses to record all the stats of our players. The last one is Yamaguchi, standing alone near the end line of the court in front of Kiyoko, drabbling a volleyball with his right hand and a lethargic look. My absolute guess is that he wants to practice his jump float serve because that’s what he does for every single day.

As I move my feet closer to them, I examine every corner of the gym around me, from left to right and back to the front again. I don’t have any questions on why I don’t see Ukai and Takeda anymore. This morning, I overheard the conversation between Nekomata and the other coaches about their big plan to spend every single night of this training camp by drinking and eating at the restaurant nearby, so I’m sure that’s where those two Karasuno’s supervisors are heading right now. I’m also not that bewildered when I see many boys from other teams still working out all over the place. The one that I feel absent is not them, but none other than the usual suspect, Kei.

“Oh, you’re back.” Kiyoko lifts her head away from her book and smiles gently at me. I also notice Yamaguchi who stops playing with his volleyball and locks his focus on me.

“Yeah… Where’s Kei? Not practicing again?” My voice sounds dejected because I am. The last time we were in Nekoma, he also straightaway left to eat and rest. I too won’t forget about the past two weeks, when he immediately went home at six without caring a single bit about the state of his team and me. I understand that what we have is considered as a “free practice” or “after practice” or whatever because it’s not a must. Still, it’s ironic to see how he’s nowhere to be seen when everyone including the managers are still present.

“Um, I asked him to practice with me, but he said that he has had enough for today, so he went to take a bath,” Yamaguchi slips in with enough detail, making me avert my head and eyes to him all at once. I’d be kidding if I said that I was surprised. That is nothing new nor groundbreaking—it’s something that I’ve expected all along when handling Kei. Since I don’t have any particular comment besides sighing, I progress onward to Azumane who apparently still doesn’t realize my existence because whatever he’s viewing on that tablet is way more fascinating than anything.

“Azumane-san,” I call out for him and everyone there instantly pauses their video to look at me. It’s quite awkward because it feels as if they treat me as a pest that just bothered their activity, but I know that’s not true.

Omitting the need to articulate a single word, Azumane nods his head as an indication of understanding that it’s time for us to refine his jump serve. He whispers some be right backs to his friends before standing up and walking to me who’s only two meters away from him. When he’s in front of me, I suddenly feel the tension in my chest. A minute before this I was so sure of myself, but now I’m doubting my way of telling him what I’m planning to do. Correction to that—I, in fact, come here without composing any decent words to explain how we’ll follow my new way of practicing, et cetera.

“What’s wrong?” Azumane might be timid, but he’s far from being dense, therefore it’s an easy thing for him to be aware of the contradiction in my eyes.

I look down to the pair of white volleyball sneakers I got four months ago while molding the courage I should’ve borne. “So Kiyoko-senpai told me that it’s easier for you to learn by watching someone who has the same form, technique, and style as you.”

“Hm? Uh, oh, that… Yes, that’s true,” Azumane replies as he rubs his bundled hair.

“Yeah, about that…” I raise my head and lock my black eyes with his brown. “I will perform a jump serve for you to imitate, so please watch me.”

My voice was as clear as freshwater that flows on mountains, hence I’d like to say that that’s the reason why Azumane and the rest of the second and third-years who sit on the floor are looking over their shoulder at me, framing their face with this indefinable look. Some even open their lips a tad, showing how much they’re in shock because of my announcement. I don’t know what’s going on behind me—where Yamaguchi, Kiyoko, Yachi, Hinata, and Kageyama currently are—but I think it’s safe to say that they have a similar reaction. Well, in all honesty, it was something that they’d never expect coming from me and I understand why.

“W-w-what are you talking about?!” Azumane stutters so much that it causes me to become even more nervous when there’s actually nothing to worry about. Please don’t add Yamaguchi and Yachi’s antic to this because it’ll absolutely make me questioning my life choice and where I should stand on.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” As if this exposure isn’t enough, Sawamura leaves his circle and runs hastily to be right next to our ace. He always acts like a father to us the children, so I can’t really blame nor reject his urge to be involved in this conversation. I might be a manager who must take care of the club and all the members, but in this case, I’m merely seen as a girl two years younger than him.

“Um, I haven’t told anyone here, but lately I’ve been playing volleyball again after seeing my mother coaching her team in Miyaoshi.” That’s the first lie that comes out flawlessly from my mouth and I’m ready to let the second one out. “Not too vigorous, but I’ve been doing many jump serves in my backyard.”

“What?! Is that okay?! What about your shoulder?! Maybe you shouldn’t do it! What if you get hurt?!” Azumane is always unsure about everything. I won’t state that I don’t appreciate his concern—I really do. I know that the reason why he’s thinking this way is because he doesn’t want me to injure myself even more than this, but it’s just hilarious to see how he’s the one being overwhelmed and not me.

“It doesn’t hurt at all, Azumane-san,” I try to shut down all of his worries.

“How about your parents? Do they know?” It’s Sawamura’s turn to interrogate me.

I smile softly, although if my life were a _manga_ , then the artist would’ve drawn some beads of sweat dripping from my temples and a gradient of purple on my entire forehead. My parents know nothing about this and I don’t want them to hear even a bit. Why? Seriously, do I need to explain why? Because there are so many possibilities that can happen if they know their daughter’s left shoulder isn’t as fragmented as what the doctor said ten months ago. They can either get very upset because of my recklessness and slap me until I lose my teeth—especially my mother—but they can also get too pumped up, presuming that maybe I still have a future to becoming a volleyball star again. There will be more things that can happen, but I just don’t want to imagine any of it.

I haven’t apprised everyone in Shiratorizawa to not spread anything to my parents, but I’m sure they’re smart enough to know it all along as I’ve complained so much about the situation at my house. Unfortunately, people in Karasuno are different. I know how Sawamura and Takeda won’t allow this to even begin without my parents’ consent. I’m not saying that those kindhearted people from Shiratorizawa don’t care the slightest about me, but I somehow get the vibe that everyone in Karasuno is more traditional and not as daredevil as the other one. I can plainly give an example from when I was in Shiratorizawa, I was asked to do a jump serve, but now that I’m with my own team, I’m amusingly required to answer a bunch of questions before even touching the surface of a volleyball.

“My parents know and they said it’s okay as long as I don’t play too hard.” Of course I can’t give away the honest truth. With the intention of rising Sawamura’s trust of my words, I look deep into his gaze. My eyes are full of zealousness and even if my heart feels a hint of guilt, it’s not like I’m doing this for the worse. I’m doing this for Azumane, for this team, and also for myself because I still feel like I belong on the court, not on the sideline.

“If you say so…” Sawamura heaves a long breath between his words. “But if you don’t feel okay, immediately stop playing and tell us. We don’t want anything dangerous happening to you.”

“I will. Thank you so much.” I stretch the corners of my lips broadly before raising my right hand to tap my left shoulder twice. “Anyway, I’m wearing a shoulder support. This is the reason why I went back to my room.”

“You’re already preparing for this?!” Azumane squeaks with several lines built on his forehead. I’m still waiting for the day when he can react calmly to things like this. It’s not like I hate this personality of him, but wouldn’t it better if he can look a bit cooler?

“I packed this in my bag just in case I need it, Azumane-san. It appears that I do.” The curl on my lips turns into a big grin.

What will Azumane and everyone else say if they know that the shoulder support is actually from Semi, one of Shiratorizawa’s setters? How will they think of me if they know that I begin playing because of people from our rival team? I guess I should stop with all the what ifs and start to focus on what lies in front of me—that is to haul this team into a higher level.

At the same time as when Sawamura goes back to his group, I walk together with Azumane to the area around Yamaguchi because of two reasons—it’s empty and there’s a cart full of volleyballs behind him. Even when no more question is asked concerning my decision to play volleyball tonight, I realize that all of my clubmates’ eyes are still on me. Yachi, Hinata, and Kageyama who stand roughly thirty meters ahead are immobile on their position while staring at me. Kiyoko is no longer stuck on her book as I’ve become the center of her attention. Yamaguchi and Azumane who stand beside me are being dead quiet, unable to pronounce any comment about what’s going on. When I take a quick glance over my shoulder to my southeast, the rest of the second and third-years are also doing the same. They can’t take their eyes away from me and once again, I understand why.

Everyone from my club more or less knows what I’ve been through so far. They know who I was yesterday and who I am today. They know that I’m what people claimed as the “volleyball princess” because I grew up within a volleyball world, in a family that’s well-known for their achievement and contribution to the aforesaid world. They’re thrilled and excited for this moment, but the same as that, I too know many things about who I am in their eyes—I know people want to watch me in action, even if it’s only for one more time. Wasn’t it the reason why people in Shiratorizawa begged me to show them a jump serve? Even someone as unresponsive as Kawanishi said that his desire to see my jump serve was ten out of ten. It’s identical here.

“Okay, Azumane-san. Please memorize everything—my toss, my form, my jump, my aim, but most importantly is my timing,” I say to Azumane as I grab one volleyball from the cart that’s positioned only a meter behind the end line where I stand now.

“Hey, be careful, okay…?” Yamaguchi mutters a warning. I bob my head as a quick response, just to guarantee my safety to him. I’m not an unprofessional in this field, therefore carelessness is out of my dictionary. I know my limit and I won’t persist if my shoulder starts to act up, unless if I want to get scolded by the whole world.

I position myself three to four meters behind the end line and inhale a deep breath. That’s when I sense more eyes watching me attentively. There’s this glasses-guy with his brown broccoli-head friend from Shinzen, then some familiar faces from Nekoma such as Lev and Yaku. Those from Nekoma are even more obvious because they’re all whispering to each other while staring at me in between. If previously I felt like an invincible dragon with scales made from the strongest diamonds, now I feel more like a lion that has been chosen as the main attraction of a circus. The pressure is a bit mortifying, but bound to happen.

“Watch me closely,” I order Azumane for the last time before hurling the ball up with my right hand. What I’m going to do now isn’t my very own style, but how Azumane should’ve done his jump serve. It might not be an exact copy because of the difference in our physique, but it will be near-perfect. In an assured manner, I run ahead and jump as high as I can, while trying to match the visual in my head. The way Azumane bends his legs back is never wrong. The way he places his right hand just several millimeters above his ear is also good. What I have to correct is when and how he must impeccably swing his hand to slam the ball down.

I’m always gleeful when I hear the loud sound of a spike or a smash or however people prefer to call it. It’s like a special music to my ears, a melody to prove how marvelous volleyball can be. Same goes to me. How lovely is the “bam” produced by my serve, resulting the ball to spin curvedly like a boomerang to the other side of the net? I might enjoy that part a bit too much, more than when it hits the ground precisely just before the end line.

“S-so cool!!!” Hinata is the first one to scream, then followed by everyone else, excluded Kageyama who only widens his eyes in amazement—something that rarely comes from him. The reaction is rowdier than when I was in Shiratorizawa as there were only around five people then and there are more than fifteen now. One way or another, I’m sincerely happy. It feels that I can leer at those who dare to give me a pitiful look because I’m no longer pitiable. I was and will never weaken.

“That’s impressive… Can you please do it a couple of times more?” Azumane pleads in such a wimpy, yet polite attitude. There’s no way I’ll refuse him—I mean, the reason why I’m doing this is because of him, isn’t it? So I give him a thumbs-up as an agreement before heading back to the cart, taking another ball with my right hand and bouncing it up ever so gracefully.

* * *

We eventually stop practicing at nine thirty p.m., just half an hour before the cafeteria will be closed. After cleaning up all the bottles and putting them in their racks, fourteen of us walk out of the gym together like a group of shoaling fish. There are eleven players and three managers. It could’ve been fifteen, had Kei not let laziness taking over his will and left earlier. Normally, I wouldn’t stop thinking about all the reasons of why he didn’t stick with us even just for another ten minutes, but right now I feel out of ordinary. A new duty has overtaken me, making me devote my entire concentration on that, rather than he who’s probably already snoring safe and sound in a white futon, under a warm blanket.  

I don’t mind if the others notice how I can’t stop beaming over all the things that have happened for the past one hour and a half. I need to say that I didn’t do that many jump serves because the star of the court should be Azumane. He was the one who should practice and not me, but even by only looking at him, I was in peace. My heart felt—and still feels—like a light pile of swan feathers. I’m in raptures to be able to assist him at the extreme, but also because tomorrow and the next day after tomorrow I’m allowed to touch the volleyball again. Granted, I won’t be in a team of six to seven, but as long as I can jump and spike, it’s sufficient for my need.

One thing that put me in a better mood was when Nishinoya jokingly offered to receive my fourth jump serve. He was agile, talented, and veracious like a lighting strike, so I wasn’t outraged when he managed to get it at his first try. He praised me by saying that he used to play with some ladies at the gym near his neighborhood and no one there was as strong as me. He said that I’ve always been the strongest young female volleyball player he has ever encountered so far. His words lit fire within me because he’s a prominent libero who won an award two years ago. Getting such wonderful words from someone like him was everything.

“Today was a good day for you, huh? It’s clearly shown on your face.” Tanaka who stands on my right opens up a new topic, ignoring the fuss created by the rest of the second-years in front of us.

“Yeah,” I swiftly admit because there’s no point of lying about this one subject matter.

“It’s nice seeing you play, honestly.” Sugawara who’s on my northeast slants his head to gaze at me over his shoulder. “I’ve known you since you were still in the first year of middle school and every single time I watch you play, you’re always so breathtaking.”

“True, true. You haven’t been playing volleyball for almost a year, am I right? How can you maintain such technique and precision?” Tanaka asks once again.

“That… I think my body is still used to it?” I snigger, my fingers scratching the bridge of my nose. “Since I was a kid until before my accident, I had to do one hundred jump serves before I could have dinner.”

“What?!” The shrieks and glimpses of disbelief are anticipated. Everyone who hears this will always have the same reaction because according to many people, what my parents did was inhuman for a little girl who coincidentally is also their only daughter. Sadly, there’s only so much I can do from being born in their prestigious dynasty.

I’ve been introduced to volleyball since I was literally a baby, but it used to be nothing more than a child’s play. I joined some volleyball classes for kids and even when I was at home, my parents would spend their limited free time by practicing with me in our backyard. When I began my third year in elementary school, they introduced me to a new rule, in which I had to complete a set of ten overhand passing, spiking, or receiving before I could have dinner. It was nothing and weirdly enough, I got motivated. I had always seen that as a form of affection from my parents, that they wanted me to follow their eminent life in the future.

That certain objective changed shortly in a year when I learned how to do a jump serve by impersonating some adults I saw on J-Sport. I remember all the clumsiness, failures, and laughter I had to overcome for months, but my parents trusted my skill enough to demand me on doing ten good jump serves before I could get my dinner. It wasn’t that long until it increased into twenty, thirty, fifty, seventy, and when I began my first year of middle school, they told me to do one hundred. It was a piece of cake, thanks to all the stamina and muscles I built over the years. I was so athletic, I could do everything in my physical education class. My vertical jump was beyond my age, my power was frightening, and I’ll be needing an additional ten hours to explain more.

“Do you remember when I said that we’re lucky to have you with us?” Sugawara proceeds to another question, to which I respond with a nod. He stated that for so many times and I’ve yet to find a valid reason on why this team needs someone like me who could only clean some stuff, when they already have a reliable manager like Kiyoko. It’s only until recently that I can make a better use of myself.

“Oh.” I elevate my eyebrows as I register what Sugawara could probably mean.

“Oh,” Sugawara repeats my single syllable as he warmly smiles. “We didn’t have a coach when you became a manager. It was only two or three weeks later when Ukai-san joined us, remember?”

Once more, I rock my head up and down. I applied to become a manager a week before we had our very first practice match with Aoba Jousai. Ukai agreed on becoming a coach only before we had an away game with Nekoma—when I sadistically couldn’t attend, all because of my parents and their family thing, but I don’t want to reminisce about that sour experience.

“So I had this crazy idea of asking you to take the coach position and help us a bit. Somehow, I knew you could do it,” Sugawara reveals, showing his white teeth for everyone to see.

“Hahaha, yeah. For days, Suga talked me into asking you. It was bothersome because I thought it would put salt on your wound. I didn’t want to be disrespectful to you.” This time, Daichi who walks behind me adds, making me turn to face him. “Fortunately, we didn’t have to wait for that long. It feels like it’s meant to be. It’s fate.”

 _It’s meant to be. It’s fate._ I’m ambivalent toward those kinds of words. It could be said that the part where I was born into my family and had my accident was categorized as one, but the part where I choose to help Azumane is my decision, my own commitment. The part where I enrolled myself in Karasuno is also not really “meant to be” and “fate”. Right here right now, I can just decide to stop being a manager and that won’t be considered as “meant to be” and “fate” as well. What I’m trying to imply is that some paths, bad or good, are for ourselves to blame.

* * *

The main menu provided for dinner is a simple beef curry on top of steaming rice. I have a moderate portion of it as I don’t want to suffer from stomachache next morning, resulted by consuming too much food before going to bed. Once I’m done with everything, I don’t forget to confirm to the cafeteria ladies about putting my Ramune in their refrigerator. They say it’s not a problem, but I should stick a note with my name written on it, in case my drink gets mistaken with other people’s drinks because apparently, I’m not the only person who wants to put my soda in the cooler.

The next thing I do is walk back to my room with Kiyoko and Yachi. I’ve seen many boys walking all over the halls with their wet hairs and towels, indicating that they have taken a shower or is going to take one. After grabbing our bath sets and a change of clothes, the three of us stroll our way to the bathroom that is located inside the forth gym that’s mainly used by the girls’ basketball team—at least according to Mako, the manager from Shinzen. I have no idea where the boys’ bathrooms are, but I heard they get a huge one near the swimming pool. There are more than seventy of them, compared to less than ten managers, so I don’t have any justifiable reason to complain why we’re given a smaller part.

Simultaneously, we finish cleaning ourselves up and exit from the gray shower enclosure. Kiyoko has this plain white t-shirt and dark red shorts, while Yachi is being too adorable by wearing yellow pajamas with tiny ducks stamped all over the surface. I’m also wearing pajamas, but it’s a plain light green, the one that’s too dull for people to take a second glance at when they scan a line of nightwear collection. I’m not a person who enjoys playing too much with patterns or colors mix-match. Just like what I always say to myself and everyone—in fashion, less is undoubtedly more.

While wiping my damp hair with an orange towel I bring from home, I traverse my cold feet back to the main building. It’s not that long when from a far distance, I catch the glimpse of Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, and some of their teammates holding their own bath sets and walking through a hallway I’ve never been on. I suppose that’s the route they should take to the swimming pool? If Kaori were here with me, I’d ask her, but that’s not the current priority in my mind. What I’m wondering the most is how will Kuroo look like with his hair down? Still gorgeous, obviously, but it won’t hurt anyone if I see it with my own eyes, right? Thank goodness, I’m sane enough not to stalk him by hiding near his bathroom.

As soon as I arrive in my bedroom—if I can call it that way—I immediately borrow a hair dryer from Yukie, the third-year manager from Fukuroudani. I never use this thing back home as I’m a lazy girl who prefers the God-given wind to do the job, but this time, I want to go to sleep soon. I know for sure that this thick and long hair of mine needs at least an hour to be one hundred percent dried. I don’t want to wet my pillow, therefore I don’t have any better option. Even Yachi’s short hair will need about the same amount of time.   

“By the way, where’s Eri-senpai?” I ask for the cute manager from Ubugawa. She was done taking a shower before I went out with Kiyoko and Yachi, but now she’s missing. I didn’t run into her either when I was on my way here.

“Oh, she’s borrowing cards from the boys in her team. We’re planning to play tonight, just like last time,” Yukie responds, making me remember about two weeks ago when we all stayed up until almost twelve a.m. I also notice that she’s already well-prepared by having a bag full of snacks. Among us the managers, she’s the one who eats the most, even more than some big boys like Lev and Azumane. Truth be told, I envy her for that because she’s still far from being fat.

Barely three minutes elapse when our room’s front door is opened. Just like I expected, it’s Eri without her usual pigtail, which makes her so much like Kiyoko—both have the same straight medium-length black hair. The major difference is that Kiyoko is a bit taller and her eyes are smaller. There’s a white pack of cards in her left hand and a plastic water bottle in her right hand. Seems like tonight will be a long night for them. I say for them because I’m going to sleep soon, perhaps in half an hour.

“[F/N].” Eri straightaway averts her eyes to my face while moving her feet closer to where I am now. “Your boyfriend is looking for you.”

“Hm?” My eyebrows furrow as I shiver at the word “boyfriend”. This is the first time I heard that coming from my fellow manager—besides Yachi, two weeks ago.

“Yeah, your boyfriend,” Eri repeats her words. “He asked me to call you out. I think he wanted to come here by himself, but I ran into him when I left Ubugawa’s boys’ room.”

“What’s wrong?” Stupidly, I give a response without opposing the lies or truths about not having a boyfriend, but what’s more important is that I feel so skeptical. My heart doesn’t feel completely elated.

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask. He’s waiting downstairs, so just go.” Eri smiles at me before sitting on the futon to my right.

“Yeah, but watch out for the teachers. They can come back anytime soon,” Yukie chimes in. “My point is don’t kiss in public, okay? No hickeys as well.”

“Yuck, Yukie-senpai! No!” I puff my cheeks coyly as I stand up and nimbly leave the room. I try my best to ignore all the whistles, giggles, and yippees from everyone, including Kiyoko and Yachi. That’s just so cringey. Maybe I really have to set the record straight that I’m perfectly single and happy? But then other boys will bother me—specifically Bokuto.

Never mind. This worthless dilemma is killing my brain slowly.

There’s a long row of big windows throughout all the indoor hallways of this building, thus once I’m out of the classroom, a scene of a lifeless dark sky is the most distinctive thing that’s reflected on my irises. I won’t say that I don’t mind at all about this pitch-black panorama. I do. Regrettably, stars won’t promptly pop out of nowhere without destroying the cause of light pollution. I’m not a godzilla, thus I have no power to do anything.

I only need to walk less than five steps to reach the U-shape stairs that connect the third floor with the second. As soon as I make a turn to proceed to the other half of the stairs, I see Kei leaning his back against the window down there. He has changed his training outfit into a light green shirt that resembles mine and white shorts that’s five centimeters above his knees, but what makes me ponder is how his eyes are staring sharply at me, as if I’ve committed a first-degree murder. That pinches my heart a bit. It’s not that I’m scared of him, I’m just puzzled on why he would bother himself by calling me like this. I suppose there’s something life-threatening to discuss about?

“Kei,” I whisper his name once the distance between us is no more than two meters. “What’s wrong?”

He tugs away his back before passing by me, to another stairs that connect this floor to the ground level below. “Let’s go.”

“Um, okay?” I can’t object his request and with the curiosity that gradually boils within my heart, I can’t help but to follow him close behind in silent. There are still some boys roaming all around us, though none of them have talked to me nor do I remember their name.

Kei leads me quite far from our building—out of the long hallways and near a big tree with a long wooden bench beneath it. Some people will still be able to see us if they squint well enough, but this spot isn’t located in the way which they must take if they want to go to the main gate, gyms, or bathrooms. In short, this is ideal for two people having a nice talk without being rudely interrupted by anyone. Not the fellow students, not the teachers, and not the securities—I hope.

“So…” At first, I thought Kei was going to sit down on the bench, but he just stands still while fixating his sight at me for a second and up at the sky. “It seems like your injury is completely healed?”

I’m unable to speak. Not because of the strangeness in his question, but the fact that he might call me only to ask that. If it were Ukai or Takeda, I could understand because they’re my guardians, but Kei? It’s not him to waste his free time this way.

“Did you call me only for this?” I ask what I have in mind, but after seeing Kei’s sore face, I simply don’t have the heart to keep an answer to myself. “I don’t know who told you about what I did in the gym, but no, my injury isn’t completely healed. It’s stuck with me till the day I die.”

“No one told me anything. I went back to take my knee pads. You didn’t see me because you were too focused on your job, right, Coach?” Kei’s voice gets flatter, albeit his expression and mean slur stay the same. “Then? Why did you play?”

“I didn’t ‘play’,” I emphasize my last word. “I only performed some jump serves to show Azumane-san how to do it right.”

“Oh, wow. What a difference.” His eyes narrow a bit, much to his dissatisfaction of the answer I gave.

Frowning grimly is my response to that. I try to understand what his biggest point of dragging me here, but I can’t seem to obtain any adequate hints. I just know that I won’t find one, even if I ask a million questions. Being with him for six days a week has taught me many things. One of them is that majority of the time, it’s the best to ignore him than to contemplate too much on every random word he utters. He’s that complex to comprehend.

“Ah. Are you… by chance mad because I can hurt myself?” I look sideways to the old tree trunk as my right hand rests on my left elbow pit. “I’m okay. I know when to stop.”

“Hahaha. What? Don’t think so highly about yourself. I’m pretty sure it’s not my business whether you injure yourself or no. After all, it’s not me who will feel the pain.”

I click my tongue, eyes going back to him who’s only been gazing at the sky above. “Then what’s your purpose of bringing me here?! Stop rambling too much and just get to the point!”

“I didn’t yell at you.” He brings his head down and stares intensely at me.

“…sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Though it’s difficult, I soften my tone. “But Kei, you said stuff like that right after you asked about my injury. It’s normal if I’d think that way. I don’t understand what you want from me, so just say it.”

Right. Typical.

I hate the moment when I ask about something important and the other person doesn’t reply soon, being so unnecessarily dramatic and what not, as if this life is a cheesy drama they watch on TV. That one is a purely crafted fiction, while this one is a reality full of scrimmages. I understand if they want to construct their words first, rather than to speak blindly, but I know Kei has brought me here with a plan. He’s not an impulsive person when it comes to everything—volleyball, education, and basically, his daily life. Right now, he’s being nothing but upsetting and that’s why my chest tightens up with displeasure.

“Well, what can you do about that, right? The beloved Volleyball Princess won’t be able to stay away for that long from her favorite sport.” Finally, he scoffs with a smirk, but his eyes shift away to the pavement below. “Your life is different from commoners like me. You fit more to be with people like the King or the Grand King.”

“Huh?” I’m utterly bewildered that he mentioned Kageyama and Oikawa who I believe have nothing to do with this.

“Let’s just pray that you won’t crack open your left shoulder… but you won’t mind, will you?” His chuckle sounds more like a chant that will come from the main villain in a fantasy movie. “Ah, my apologies. That’s very impolite of me. What authority does a commoner have to change the mindset of a princess? And I mustn’t speak this way to the royalty or I could get beheaded. I’m so inferior when compared to the likes of you, Princess.”

What? Is he being possessed by a demon?

If no, then what is he trying to tell?

“Kei, what’s the matter with you…?” I dilate my eyes, a bit petrified of all those uncanny things he has just let out. His mouth is savage and he likes to needlessly ridicule people, but speaking like this is just so bizarre. There must be something that’s been in his mind for some time now. Did I make a mistake? No. I know I did not. Then maybe Yamaguchi or his family? I doubt so.

“Nothing.” The smug smile on Kei’s lips falters as he steps forward. “Let’s go back.”

“What? Kei, no, wait.” I grasp his right wrist, but since that doesn’t make him stop moving, I trail behind him while still making several jerking motions. “Tell me, what’s wrong? Did I do something that angered you? Is it about the training camp?”

“No. I just despise someone too passionate like you. It’s like watching a monkey on drugs.” His answer is quick and irresolute.

“Liar.” It’s a no brainer for me to accuse his first try at brushing me away. “You haven’t even told me the reason why you needed to talk to me privately like this.”

“Shut up.”

“Kei!” I yank his wrist harder. This is not what I want. I should’ve gotten more answers, not questions.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“But—”

“Stop it.” Kei pulls his wrist away from mine, startling my selfless soul who wants nothing but fondness for him. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll get mad for real.”

“Tsk! You need to see a doctor because you have a serious problem with your personality!” I blurt out, not caring about the whole ‘I didn’t yell at you, so don’t do the same to me’. “Do you think it’s cool to say a bunch of offensive sentences and then consider yourself as an innocence?! Oh, probably because you knew that I wouldn’t get mad? Indeed, I didn’t and instead, I cared about you! I thought you were just in a bad mood and that you actually wanted me to stop doing jump serves because I could hurt myself! Yet now you act like a sad victim and wow, how I bother you and should leave you alone?! Yeah, right! I think it’s a ghost who asked me to come here!”

Right after I finish my last words, Kei stops moving his feet and turns around to lock his eyes with mine. His expression is indescribable, but I couldn’t care less to try to decipher that.

“Ugh, I should’ve played cards with the girls now, not wasting my time with you. How am I supposed to take all the minutes back?” I groan despicably. “You know, I honestly think you have a fetish of someone begging you things. You do this for so many times to me. When I made a mistake, you’d forgive me only after I said sorry for days. Go play that kind of game with other girls, not me. You’re popular enough to find ten or fifteen who can handle and enjoy this sick game of yours.”

There’s no retort, only a fleeting glance that hops between me and whatever objects in the area behind me. This again. Pretty sure I just thought about how I hate it when someone only stays silent during decisive conversation, but well, some people are just beyond saving, including this tall guy in front of me.

“Never mind. Do whatever you want, but anyway… you’re almost sixteen, not six, so try to act a bit more like your age.” I pat Kei’s back a couple of times before walking away. It only takes another three seconds when my pace changes into a jog.

I don’t know and I don’t care regarding what he’s doing back there—whether he’s still idling on the exact position or whether he has started following my pathway. For sure there are two things that I currently feel. One, that conversation leaves a bitter taste on my tongue, simply because I rarely lose my chill. Two, I still believe that there’s something bothering Kei’s heart and mind—either someone has said something awful to him or he has witnessed an event he wishes to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't put a lot of background information about the heroine on purpose because you'll learn everything soon. :3
> 
> And about Kei... ugh, I can't wait to post the next chapter!
> 
> Thank you for reading and comments are greatly appreciated~


	26. The Sun, the Moon, and the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s wrong with you?” Kei asks, his voice is the same as always.
> 
> What’s wrong with me? Is that the sentence I wish to hear before I embark on a new day? No. What do I expect from him? A sincere apology that shows how remorseful he is after yesterday. Then perhaps, I expect too much. I should’ve opened my eyes and tried to understand that Tsukishima Kei will never acknowledge his own mistake, even if someone literally rubs it on his face. Regrettably for us, I won’t be the person who will say the word.
> 
> “Nothing.” I faintly smile without looking the slightest at him. “Good morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A SPECIAL 10K+ WORDS FOR VALENTINE’S DAY!!! HAPPY SEMISWEET CHOCOLATE TO ALL OF YOU OUT THERE!!!  
> just kidding, I never had a plan to update on this date haha and idc about valday unless if it’s a national holiday haha
> 
> Anyway…  
> (maybe almost) Everyone: WE DEMAND USHIWAKA BACK  
> Me: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) guys it’s only been 2 chapters
> 
> **I’m making some changes for the LINE-chatting format of this fic:**
> 
>   * I’m adding time, just so you’ll have a more precise imagination when you read and it’ll also help me describe the entire situation. I won't be adding a “Read”, because that’s unnecessary. For this one, I actually have to tweak the HTML quite a lot, but since I cherish you all, it’s not a problem. ♥
>   * I’m changing the _[Sent a sticker.]_ hyperlinks into real images. Previously, I didn’t do this because I used to simply print screen the sticker, resulting a fugly white background. The only fix was to make it transparent, but I was too lazy to edit it (oops). Last week, I found a complete .png pack of 700+ Brown  & Cony stickers, so I was like: Hell yeah! Wish I’d search sooner, though! ＼(＾▽＾)／
>   * Some stickers seem to look smaller or bigger, but nope, they all have the same height. Only the normal (non-Brown/Cony) emoji that are smaller. ;)
> 

> 
> I'll change all the old ones in the previous chapters when I have time.
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> 2\. The title of this chapter is taken from [a quote I found here](http://www.enkivillage.com/sun-and-moon-quotes.html). I did want to have something about the sun and the moon, and I got pretty lucky by finding a perfect match for the overall plot of this chapter. ;)
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“[F/N]-chan, your phone has been charging since yesterday. Is that okay?”

I flick my languid eyes a couple of times before rubbing each one of them with my hands. Just under three minutes ago, Kiyoko woke me up with that melodious voice of hers and some pokes on my cheeks. Accompanied by a grunt and dispassionate heart, I lift my upper body to a sitting position. Seconds have elapsed, but my soul is still out there, wandering in a realm which I don’t reckon. The only thing that I understand now is that everyone else is still sleeping, besides Yachi and Yukie who are standing and dragging their feet to I have no idea where. Also, that Kiyoko notifies me about my phone.

“Hey, your phone,” the lady warns me again.

“Hm… Yeah…” Lazily, I yank away the thin white blanket that covers my feet and crawl closer to my southwest, where there’s only one gold-cased phone charged in a long electrical adapter beneath a school desk. I don’t know why I’m so forgetful about things that are important, such as people’s name and how I own a gadget that’s been deserted for eleven hours or so.

I turn on my phone at the same time as I unplug the charger, also from the adapter. There’s a myth saying that overcharging phone can greatly reduce its battery life, but again, it’s called a myth for a reason. I read more articles saying that my type of smartphone has a built-in circuit which is smart enough to cut off the power once it has been fully charged—I assume that’s why it’s called a smart phone. Still, I found that charging longer than needed can cause the phone to overheat and that totally what happens to me for so many times, specifically if I do it with the screen on. It doesn’t happen now as I remember I charged it because it was out of battery, therefore it was turned off the entire time.

I only need to wait for less than two minutes for everything to load, including several LINE notifications that pop up so quickly until my eyes can’t quite catch who is who and what is what. Without waiting any longer, I unlock the screen and open the app itself. There are some yesterday messages from Ushijima and Goshiki, then some irrelevant news from official accounts that I couldn’t care less about. I haven’t asked about Shinzen’s Wi-Fi password, but I will once Mako is awake. Set that aside, I don’t mind using mobile data because LINE has never consumed too much kilobytes even during phone calls, compared to my biggest data consumer—video sharing sites.

Because Goshiki is my baby brother that’s more precious than life itself, my brain, heart, and body choose to open his chat first. I can see that Ushijima sent me more words, but there are several reasons why I think it’s not a problem if I don’t rush my reply. One, he’s such a patient human being. Two, I know that if he’s awake at the moment, our chat will expand long and I’m afraid I won’t have enough time for Goshiki as I have to get up soon. Three, the same thing won’t happen to Goshiki because I’ve never seen him leaving his dreamland this early in the morning.

_Goshiki_  
_Did I thank Haruka-san for bringing me home yesterday? 11:12 AM_  
_I forget… 11:12 AM _  
_ 11:12 AM _

_Me_  
_ 7:06 AM Hahaha_  
_ 7:06 AM Why are you so cute?_  
_ 7:06 AM Yes, you did. No worries. You were to sleepy to remember, huh? XD_  
_ 7:07 AM Anyway, sorry for the late reply! I was dying yesterday_  
_ 7:07 AM Want to tell you everything :3_  
_ 7:07 AM How’s your day? Love you!  
_

As predicted, he doesn’t instantly read my chat. I have no idea whether he’s going to have a morning practice at eight a.m. like usual or not, but without a doubt, he’s going to wake up in at least twenty minutes from now. Using bus, his house is only five to ten minutes away. Thus in conclusion, he’ll still be left with another twenty minutes to prepare himself through and through. I know him well enough to understand his habit that might never change until the day he dies. Enough with the ace-wannabe, I jump to the grand ace’s chat.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Good morning. Have you arrived in Saitama? 7:36 AM_  
_Are you still sleeping? 7:41 AM_  
_I have a night practice today, so I’ll go back to sleep now 7:41 AM_  
_Take care 7:41 AM_  
_7:42 AM_   
_Isn’t it hot there? 3:33 PM_  
_Be careful 3:34 PM_  
_ 3:34 PM _  
_Seems like you’re so busy 10:12 PM_  
_Good night and rest well 10:12 PM _

My heart feels light after reading everything he wrote, especially when I notice the time gap between each sentence. Did he wake up that early only to ask whether I have arrived? Seems like it, proven by how he went back to sleep when I wasn’t online. Then eight hours later, he sent me another chat, asking about the weather here. The last one was probably before he went to bed. He still thought of me and wished me a good night, showing how someone could become so caring and selfless. Is he a sugar? No? Then why is he so sweet? Also, look at all those stickers. I don’t know, I just feel happy and special.

 _Me_  
_ 7:08 AM Hello! Sorry, I just opened my phone_  
_ 7:08 AM Is Brown there?_  
_7:08 AM_  

He doesn’t immediately read my chat and I understand if it’s too early for him to be available, but only five seconds after locking my phone, the screen brightens up again, displaying a message from him. I was planning to clean and roll my futon, but it appears that I’m not allowed to do that just yet. Half of the managers still haven’t opened their eyes and breakfast will start in fifty minutes, not five. I have enough time to do many things without being late, hence I don’t see the point of not replying to Ushijima, someone that I quite love to spend a bit of time with.

_Ushijima_  
_Brown? 7:09 AM_  
_I think you chat a wrong person? 7:09 AM  
_

Seriously? How am I not supposed to face-palm after reading that?

 _Me_  
_ 7:09 AM ………_  
_ 7:09 AM NEVER MIND_

_Ushijima_  
_What’s wrong? 7:09 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:09 AM I call you Brown because I’m Cony, right???_  
_ 7:09 AM Huh! The joke isn’t funny anymore!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Oh. I understand now 7:10 AM_  
_I’m sorry, Cony 7:10 AM_

 _Me_  
_7:10 AM_  

_Ushijima_  
_Don’t be mad at me 7:10 AM  
_

_Me_  
_7:10 AM_  

 _ Ushijima_  
_Sorry. I’m still sleepy, that’s why 7:10 AM _  
_ 7:10 AM _

_Me_  
_ 7:11 AM Oh, did I wake you up?  
_

_ Ushijima_  
_No. I woke up 10 minutes ago 7:11 AM_  
_I’m going for a run 7:11 AM_

 _Me_  
_ 7:11 AM Oh, okay then! I don’t want to bother you_  
_ 7:11 AM And as expected, you’ll still exercise even during holiday hahaha_

_ Ushijima _  
_You never bother me 7:11 AM_

_Me_  
_ 7:11 AM Anyway, let me respond to your messages…_  
_ 7:11 AM It’s quite hot here and yes, it was hectic yesterday until I couldn’t check on my phone_  
_ 7:11 AM I will go through the same thing again today, but honestly it’s fun since the managers and everyone here are so nice_  
_7:12 AM_  
_ 7:12 AM How’s there? _

 _ Ushijima_  
_That’s good if you’re having fun 7:12 AM_  
_It’s going to get hot anytime soon, that’s why we’re having a night practice 7:12 AM_

_Me_  
_ 7:12 AM Won’t you be having any summer break? You’ve practiced hard every day, so resting for a week won’t hurt anyone…_ _  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes. We get a full summer break for two weeks starting from today 7:12 AM_  
_The night practice is only optional. I’m not going home, so I’m joining 7:12 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:12 AM Why not? I don’t know why I’ve never asked this, but where’s your house?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_In Sendai 7:13 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:13 AM Then it’s near Shiratorizawa!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I don’t like the situation in my house 7:13 AM_  
_It’s better here with my friends 7:13 AM  
_

My fingers stagger because I didn’t expect that kind of response from Ushijima. Then I remember weeks ago, when I just began to know him and found out that he lives in Shiratorizawa’s dorm. One of my very first assumptions was that he doesn’t have a good relationship with his mother, but who am I to judge a person that quickly? Now it feels as if I’ve accidentally flipped the wrong switch, though I know that he will never get mad if I ask him one or two things.

Well then perhaps I should, just out of curiosity.

 _Me_  
_ 7:13 AM You’re not close to your mother?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Not really 7:13 AM_

 _Me_  
  _ 7:13 AM How’s your father? You’re not going to spend time with him?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_He already went back to America two weeks ago 7:14 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 7:14 AM Seriously?!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Why? 7:14 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 7:14 AM Uh…_  
  _ 7:14 AM Sorry for being selfish, Ushijima-san…  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Selfish? 7:14 AM_

 _Me_  
  _ 7:14 AM Because I barely ask you stuff, although you always listen to me complaining about everything_  
   _7:15 AM I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s okay if you want to talk to me about this_  
  _ 7:15 AM I’d love to hear it as well!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_About my father? I thought you knew many things about him from your parents? 7:15 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 7:15 AM No, about your mother  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Sure._ _I don’t mind 7:16 AM  
_

The decision-making was insanely fast. I thought he would mull over, thinking about all the scars that he might need to reopen if he has to talk about this specific subject matter. Does that mean that their relationship isn’t as horrible as how I imagine it? I can write down many possibilities, but my top two will be either that they barely talk because she’s busy with her own life or that this has something to do with her divorce years ago. Pretty sure it won’t be a nice story, since not being in a good-term with your own mother isn’t something people will consider as normal. It’s far from what the society wants us to be.

 _Me_  
  _7:16 AM Let’s have a call later?_  
   _7:16 AM Typing seems to be inconvenient  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay 7:16 AM_

 _Me_  
  _ 7:16 AM My schedule is the same as the last away game_  
  _ 7:16 AM I’ll be free at 8 pm, but I’m going to help my team’s individual practice and have dinner until 10, maximum_  
  _ 7:17 AM That must be okay because you won’t have anything important to do the next morning?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_But what about lunch break? 7:17 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 7:17 AM Cony’s nap time_  
_ 7:17 AM  _

_Ushijima_  
_Ah 7:17 AM_  
_ 7:17 AM _

Oh my. I want to squeal, but I’m afraid to frighten my fellow managers. I’ve heard some people claim that toothache is the worst kind of pain because it can hurt their entire body and literally makes them unable to do something productive—which also makes them no more than a piece of raw potato. Ushijima is so adorable that he can give me abscessed teeth, but because it’s from him, it’s pleasurable. I’ll argue every doctor who says that my theory isn’t applicable and hazardous. Call me crazy, I won’t care the faintest.

 _Me_  
_ 7:17 AM You aren’t lonely, right?_  
_7:18 AM_   
_ 7:18 AM Who’s staying in the dorm with you?_

 _ Ushijima_  
_Yamagata is here. He’s from Kagoshima. 7:18 AM_

 _Me_  
   _7:18 AM So far!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes. The train ticket costs around 40.000 yen and the trip is 9 hours long 7:18 AM_  
_Airplane is only 3 hours, but the ticket is above 150.000 yen 7:18 AM_  
_His parents aren’t rich and he has 4 younger siblings, so they can’t afford either one for every single holiday 7:18 AM  
_

The story about someone’s financial struggle always makes me loathe this unfair life for making only a few chosen children being born into a wealthy household, including myself. I know I’m not spoiled by my parents—we don’t go to Europe or Hawaii every year nor do we eat in a world-renowned restaurant twice a day. Fortunately, if there’s a mishap that needs a huge amount of money, my parents will be able to afford it without breaking any sweat. When I was hospitalized, my insurance paid a lot, but my parents threw some extra cash for a VIP room, where I could basically get anything I wanted. If the same thing happens to Yamagata or one of his family members, he won’t be able to get the same privilege as me. I pray for his carreer in volleyball to always go smoothly, so that he can be sure that no matter what lies in the future, he’s going to have a reliable backup.

 _Me_  
  _7:19 AM So he’s never gone back home since he attended Shiratorizawa?_

_Ushijima_  
_He went home once during summer in our first year 7:19 AM_  
_Usually it’s his family who comes to visit him during golden week 7:19 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 7:19 AM I see! Please say hi from me to him_  
  _ 7:19 AM And how about the other third-years? Semi-san? :D  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay 7:20 AM_  
_Semi and Reon live in Sendai too. They’ll come for the night practice, together with the rest of the regulars 7:20 AM_  
_Tendou’s going back to Yokohama 7:20 AM_

 _Me_  
  _ 7:20 AM Yokohama is near where I am now_  
_7:20 AM_  

 _Ushijima_  
_You’re right 7:20 AM_  
_Anyway, I have a question? 7:20 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:21 AM Yes?  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Who’s that chick? 7:21 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:21 AM The yellow character that always creeps in the background?_  
_ 7:21 AM That’s Sally, a duck_  
_ 7:21 AM Cute, right?_  
_7:21 AM_

 _Ushijima_  
_Duck? That’s clearly a chick 7:21 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:21 AM What? No! Look at her beak! Chick doesn’t have thick beak!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_So it’s a her? 7:22 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 7:22 AM Yes, it’s a female duck  
_

_Ushijima_  
_7:22 AM_  
_It’s a chick. A cute baby chicken 7:22 AM_

 _Me_  
_ 7:22 AM It’s a duck!!!  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I won’t say “yes” because I don’t want you to trust an inaccuracy 7:22 AM_

“Oh, Nanako?” I jolt when out of nowhere, Yukie’s breath brushes against my right ear. Spontaneously, I lock my phone and drop—or smash—the gadget down on the floor in front of my crossed legs. My head turns to the brunette who’s chuckling all by herself, but the only suitable expression I can give to her is a scowl.

“Yukie-senpai, don’t peek at someone’s chat like that!” I have no better option than to scold Yukie because what she’s doing is plainly unacceptable, even when it’s not Ushijima I’m currently talking to. There’s an unspoken rule that the youngsters should be very respectful to those who are older, but it never works that way in my eyes. I won’t mind to raise my voice at someone who makes a mistake, regardless their gender, age, or background. Yes, that does include my own parents for so many times.

“So who’s this Nanako? Isn’t she an amazing person?” Ignoring my reprimand, Yukie moves to another question as she stands up from her kneeling stance.

“What do you mean by ‘amazing’?” I must ask back because I have zero idea of what she’s implying.

“Well, amazing because…” She lands both of her hands on her hips. “She’s capable of making you giggle that easily after what happened yesterday night.”

I click my tongue and pout in despair. It’s not like her statement successfully made me hate her in an instant, but does she have to remind me about that? When I woke up this morning, I was fine and I felt okay. I didn’t even think about anything other than to clean up my stuff, tie my hair in a high ponytail, wash my face, go downstairs to the cafeteria for breakfast, and then last but not least, brush my teeth so no one’s going to collapse when they talk to me. All thanks to her, now I can’t help but to remember everything—all the anger and nuisance I brought back to my sleep.

Last night after I had that bizarre and indefinable talk with Kei, I ran back to this room without even looking back once. Supposedly, my crumbling emotion was at fault when I shut the door quite hard and startled everyone who was sitting on the floor in circle, getting ready to start the first round of a card game. I’ve always considered myself as a good actress who’s an expert in hiding the worst emotion on her face, but that time I couldn’t become one. Either because I was too sleepy or my mood had plummeted too deep to be pulled up—for sure everyone noticed the agony overlaying my usual beaming appearance.

Kiyoko was the first one who asked about my well-being, but I brushed her away by stating that Kei was just being himself, which annoyed me to some extent. The others were muddled by my explanation, but Kiyoko and Yachi sort of understood because they knew what kind of trash Kei would say to guiltless people on a daily basis. I told them not to worry too much about me and I proved that by playing with them, only for two rounds before I couldn’t handle the throb in my head. The last part had nothing to do with how I tossed my body in my futon and submitted myself to a good rest.

“Let’s hurry a bit? It’s almost seven thirty. I’m sure your friend won’t mind to wait.” It’s Kiyoko’s turn to talk to me and that’s when I realize that everyone’s awake, except Kaori who instead snores even louder than before. Two weeks ago, she woke up earlier than me, but I bet yesterday she had too much fun with 54-card deck until it got too late. Luckily, we didn’t add alcohol to the game.

“Okay.” I nod my head as I go back to my phone that’s only been neglected for two minutes.

 _Me_  
_ 7:24 AM Kiyoko-senpai is calling me_  
  _ 7:24 AM I have to go now_

_Ushijima_  
_Already? 7:24 AM_

 _Me_  
  _ 7:24 AM Yes, I’m going to have breakfast at 8, then the practice begins at 9_  
_ 7:25 AM You know my schedule and you’ve experienced a training camp before, so what do you expect? XD_  
  _ 7:25 AM I’ll chat you a bit during my lunch break, okay?_

_Ushijima_  
_Mhm 7:25 AM_

 _Me_  
  _ 7:25 AM Good luck with your morning run, ace~_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes 7:25 AM_  
_Don’t tire yourself 7:25 AM _

_Me_  
_7:25 AM _  
_7:25 AM Same goes to you_

_Ushijima_  
_7:25 AM_  


Hastily, I leave my chat with Ushijima and turn the power off of my phone. The reason why I’m doing this is so it won’t needlessly drain its battery like the last time, hence later on, I don’t have to charge it again before I can use it. I scoot sideways to the area full of bags and tuck my phone inside my travel bag. When my left hand comes in contact with Semi’s drawstring bag, I right away remember about one specific thing that I almost forget for I don’t know how many times already.

“Um, question?” I look over my shoulder to all the girls who are busy with their futon. “Does anyone here have a sticky note and a pen?”

“Oh, I do,” Eri responds with a smile.

* * *

Unlike Karasuno and Nekoma that have toilets built on the second floor, Shinzen has theirs on each floor, including the third where I reside. Who don’t prefer it this way? I surely do as there’s no need for me run over topless boys in shorts and let their voices pierce my ears. Even from here, I can predict which voice is whose, particularly if they’re from my own team. Sawamura is the one I hear the most because he keeps telling everyone to not sprint in the hall, to queue before brushing their teeth, to calm down a bit when they speak, and some such. I still long to see the day when I’ll stop questioning the maturity of those who are older than me.

After washing my face and combing my hair into my trademark ponytail, I go back to my room with Yachi. As I put back my towel and cleanser to its place, I grab the strawberry Ramune that’s left just outside my travel bag. A square pink sticky note with my full name written on it is stamped on the front side of the bottle. I’m sure this piece of thin paper can get drenched once the bottle is cold enough to create droplets on its surface, but even if it will mess up the ink, I somehow think that no one will be mean enough to drink this without anyone’s consent. Though if that will happen, I can just find the culprit and ask them to buy me the exact same thing today.

Gosh. Just how many steps must I climb, only for the sake of Kei drinking this red beverage?

Once I’m sure that I’m good to go, I leave the room together with Yachi who begins to talk about how broiling the weather appears out there and how Kiyoko has been inside one of the cubicles in the toilet for too long. The last part doesn’t really bother me because Kiyoko herself has told us that she’s perfectly healthy. I keep my head down as I fixate my eyes on a pair of dark blue slip-on that land precisely on the grubby stairs which will lead me to the second floor. That’s when a scene from a teenage love story strangely occurs to me—I bump myself into a tall wall and squeak a bit. While using my right hand to rub my forehead, I lift my head to see none other than Kei with Yamaguchi behind him.

 _You do this for so many times to me. When I made a mistake, you’d forgive me only after I said sorry for days. Go play that kind of game with other girls, not me. You’re popular enough to find ten or fifteen who can handle and enjoy this sick game of yours._ The words from last night are still stuck in my mind. It’s clear, it’s fresh like the morning roses, it’s nothing vague. I used my tongue to speak all those and apparently, it still burns me.

And here it comes. Here’s the repulsive pang in my chest. I’ve gotten close to Kei for four months and we’ve had countless of fights, ranging from the silliest to the quite-aggravating ones. Yet, among all of those dumb chapters of our life, never once I sternly shouted what’s in my mind like yesterday. I used to cutely get angry, pouting, puffing my cheeks, punching his arms like a little girl, and that was it. Right now, I’m walking blind. I have no idea what to do and how to behave like my old self.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kei asks, his voice is the same as always.

What’s wrong with me? Is that the sentence I wish to hear before I embark on a new day? No. What do I expect from him? A sincere apology that shows how remorseful he is after yesterday. Then perhaps, I expect too much. I should’ve opened my eyes and tried to understand that Tsukishima Kei will never acknowledge his own mistake, even if someone literally rubs it on his face. Regrettably for us, I won’t be the person who will say the word.

“Nothing.” I faintly smile without looking the slightest at him. “Good morning.”

“Hm, yeah. Good morning.”

“Oh right, I kept forgetting to tell you, but I brought this for you when I was on the way to school.” I bring up my left hand that tightly squeezes a strawberry Ramune. “I’m going to put this in the refrigerator at the cafeteria for you. Tell me when you want to drink it, I’ll take it out for you.”

I have to admit, I said “for you” three times on purpose, just so Kei would perhaps realize how much I hold him dearly in my heart. He’s always on my mind whenever I’m out there somewhere, regardless who stand next to me at the time. I always accept all his refusals to reply to my chat or to pick me up even when it’s late night outside. I notice Kei’s only response is to scrunch his nose up, but that doesn’t quite describe his real feeling—whether he does grasp the first hint of my kindness or not. I don’t even know if I manage to create this uptight atmosphere for everyone to feel or it’s only me who senses it.

“Yachi.” Wasting no time, my eyes avert heavily to Yachi who stands on my left. “Let’s go.”

“Uh, okay.” Yachi glances at Kei for a moment before her feet move to follow mine that hop further downstairs. I hear Yamaguchi whispering some stuff that’s inaudible as the distance between us gets too wide, but it’s most likely about why I acted so differently than my normal self. Sad for Yamaguchi because there’s no way Kei will explain him that freely.

“What will be the breakfast today?” As soon as we reach the outdoor hallway, I crack through the silence with a cliché topic. There are some boys from other schools walking by us—including those who are a couple meters ahead—but I have yet to see anyone from Karasuno, unless if I count Kei and Yamaguchi who are still inside.

“I guess another kind of chicken dish? Same as yesterday and when we were at Nekoma,” Yachi answers, her right hand stroking her nape. Her statement is true and if I were the cafeteria ladies, I’d probably go with the same meat because it’s the most efficient one to process. Grilling, frying, roasting, even dumping it into soup—there are literally too many options to feed seventy hungry mouths without having to overthink about the limited time.

“Hahaha, that’s funny. I’m thinking fish because we’ve always had chicken, even for dinner,” I continue the conversation before my chuckle gradually ceases. “Hey, Yachi, is it okay if you sit alone with me?”

Yachi abruptly halts her feet, so do I as there’s no reason for me not to walk side by side with her. Being twenty centimeters shorter than me, she lifts her head up and there’s this questionable look on her pretty face. I’m not surprised at all with this kind of reaction. Kiyoko would’ve done the same. Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Kageyama would’ve done even worse. I always sit next to Kei. I always laugh with him and no matter what happens, we’ll mend our problem fast and by the end of the day, we’ll cuddle and cling to each other. I understand that this is the first time I choose to stay away from him, without even trying to fix anything.

“I don’t really want to be nosy, but… what exactly happened yesterday with Tsukishima-kun?” Yachi’s eyes waver, portraying the same timid personality Azumane owns.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing. It’s just the same old quarrel we’ve always had,” I hide the fact because I see no point in telling this problem to Yachi. As if there’s something she can do to convert Kei into a better human being. As if the stars will suddenly adorn the sky. As if that will drastically change my day into the best one of July. It’s futile and it will only cause me a major headache.

“But if it’s ‘the usual’, you wouldn’t be like this…” It doesn’t look like Yachi wants to let go of this subject any time soon.

“No, there’s nothing to worry about,” I assure the blonde with the same sentence, only the placement is different. Without waiting for her next question, I resume my step onward. I won’t give her any opening to slip one or two words, but deep down, I’ve always known that she’s a considerate girl who knows when to stop meddling into other people’s business.

“We haven’t known each other for that long, so it’s normal if you don’t trust me that much… but you can always talk to me if you need someone…” Yachi offers her shoulders and I’m truly grateful for that, but again, I don’t see the benefit of retelling any of these to her.

“Yeah.” I chuckle half-heartedly. “Thank you.”

* * *

Who would’ve thought that getting zero attention from Kei can be this painful? He enters the cafeteria by the time I seat myself on a long chair near the food counter that’s often unoccupied. A plate of chicken _omurice_ lies on a ivory-colored table between me and Yachi—God bless her for the accurate menu prediction. Among the crowd, Kei’s eyes are able to find me, but I don’t need to count until three before he fleets away to grab his own portion of breakfast. Just like that, he turns his back to his usual place and there’s no more extra glances given to me. Doesn’t he feel unnatural not to have me beside him? More than that—does he even think of me like I think about him? Does he even consider to apologize and ask about my feeling?

The only good thing about this is that I’m relieved when no one from Karasuno questions why Yachi and I don’t sit together with them like the day before. Truth be told, I did anticipate Tanaka or Nishinoya to bombard me with so many cheap speculations, but today they seem to understand that sometimes someone needs a breath of fresh air—although that’s not quite the case at the moment. Kiyoko and the rest of the managers come a bit later. They gleefully join my table like we’re a bunch of old friends having a reunion after not meeting each other for five years. The same as the others, they aren’t eager to know the reason behind this new setting.

Since we both arrived first, Yachi and I finish our food earlier than the others, but this time, we decide to wait before we move to the first gym. The hands of the clock are still minutes away from eight a.m., so there’s no hustle and bustle for us to fill our empty glasses with more iced tea or to grab bananas provided on every long table in this room. I really like listening to Yukie making jokes about her own clubmates, but I love it more to see her eat without worries. How could her small body carry so much food? I guess it won’t be a mistake to assume that she eats more than Ushijima.

We wrap everything exactly at eight a.m. After shoving all the dirty dishes into their carts, I head to the first gym together with ninety five percent of the boys. As soon as we’re there, we straightaway split ourselves to our respective post. The same as usual, Yachi, Kiyoko, and I get down to fill all the empty water bottles. When we’re done, we proceed to taking out all the clean towels from a gym bag and stack them on a chair so our boys can handily use them. Aren’t we akin to housewives? It’s funny when in the future some people will ask us regarding how good we do our duty as a housewife and we’ll simply reply with “well, I’ve had my learning time in high school”.

Set that aside, I’m content when the games for Karasuno go a bit better than yesterday. Although Hinata and Kageyama’s quick is still flawed, Azumane’s serve drastically become more stable than ever. He doesn’t seem to doubt himself that much anymore and his timing is exceptional.  I wish I could cry out the joyfulness inside of me. I’ll give it that he’s a fast learner who’s also powerful on his own but I’m the one who patched all the tiny cracks. If he keeps practicing with this pace, I’m sure his jump serve will be unstoppable by the time we have our Spring High preliminaries. I’m so proud.

“Girls.” Roughly at eleven a.m., Mako comes to me, Kiyoko, and Yachi who are reclining cozily on our chairs. “Ogano’s parents sent us some watermelons, so let’s cut them now?”

I rock my head up and down as I rise my body with Kiyoko and Yachi next to me. I follow Mako who wants to inform other managers while letting my brain buffer the name “Ogano”. Who’s that again? Since Mako is a manager from Shinzen, most likely Ogano is one of the players there. Honestly, I know no one from Shinzen. Among five teams here, Nekoma is the closest to Karasuno and I still can’t remember each of their name. I know there’s Kuroo the handsome knight who takes my breath away, Kenma the setter with dyed hair, Lev the Russian giant, and Yaku the noteworthy libero. I used to remember their ace’s name, but somehow, the word flies away by itself. Is it Tora or Toru? No, not the latter since it resembles someone I know back home.

Once everyone’s gathered, we’re led by Mako to the cafeteria. There are five plump watermelons all over the tables with four wood cutting boards, sharp knives, and a high rack of big white plates to arrange the final product. The cafeteria ladies are nowhere to be found, but I believe they’re the ones who have prepared the utensils for us, so shout out for them. Now I wonder if these watermelons are enough to feed sixty to seventy people as I’ve never cut one in my life before. Not to mention that most of the boys will eat at least two big slices. Guess I’ll just have to copy how the older managers swing their knives.

“I think we should have mostly big slices, but also some small ones, in case some of the boys can’t eat too much,” Mako advises us as she positions herself in front of a pale brown cutting board. It doesn’t take any additional second for her to drop a heavy watermelon onto the cutting board with both hands and grab the nearest knife with her right. As if her family runs a busy grocery store for decades, she breaks the watermelon in half, then half again. Then she turns one of the four huge cuts skin-side up and slices it into several wedges. What a professional. I want to see her fillet a salmon.

“Isn’t that too thin?” Eri asks, dragging herself to the cutting board next to Mako and gripping her own knife. “Well, then I guess they just have to eat more if they don’t feel enough.”

I chuckle at Eri who answers her own questions. Following Kiyoko, I roll a watermelon to the top of a cutting board in front of me and slice it in half, almost as perfect as what Mako did before. It’s not a mission impossible, but I have to be careful not to squash the outer skin too much and wet the surface around me. The cafeteria ladies have worked hard for us during their holiday, so there’s no need to add more cleaning jobs for them. I look to my left to see Yachi and Kaori laying several plates on the table and transfer all the sliced watermelons there.

“See? She starts eating. I knew it,” Mako criticizes Yukie who doesn’t do anything but hold a watermelon wedge from Eri’s cutting board and chow the juicy red flesh like a starving hamster. Mako’s voice sounds as if she’s all irked by how Yukie doesn’t contribute a bit to the work, but the wide smile on her face confirms otherwise. Personally, I don’t have any negative remark regarding this as it’s Yukie we’re talking about.

The task is done fast, leaving one whole watermelon as a leftover that we can cut later if the boys want more. There are total of six plates which everyone carries in both hands, while Yachi has several big-sized plastic bags that we’ll use as a temporary trash can. None of us have signed a contract to become a waitress by the beautiful seashore in Thailand, but well, it’s not like I have the heart to complain about feeding people in the midst of a savage training camp. Most of us make our way back to the hill beside the first gym, while Yukie, Kaori, and Eri enter the building to inform everyone about their special treat.

So there we have it. Flocks of giants bursting out of the back entrance to us the cute managers who only stand still separately. Some are leaning against the outer wall, some are standing in the middle of nowhere like I am. In a flash, ten to fifteen boys snatch wedges after wedges from my plates while saying some thankyous and how hot the sun above us is. I glance at Yachi who’s taping the handle of a plastic bag on the wall to my left. I wonder what would’ve happened had she become the one to serve these boys? She’d lose consciousness, probably.

“Can I get one?”

I turn my head back to the front and is welcomed by Yamaguchi with Kei right beside him, as always. I know the blonde is the reason why my shoulders tense up slightly, but nodding with a grin is the only natural thing I can do. I lift the plate on my right hand to offer Yamaguchi. He takes the biggest wedge there is, while Kei chooses a smaller one. I’m amazed as I thought the latter would take the tiniest piece that merely needs three bites to finish, but I think it’s safe to say that even he can’t resist the temptation of sweets. He loves strawberry, so treating watermelon the same way isn’t surprising.

“Whoa, it’s cold. Yummy. Thank you so much,” Yamaguchi expresses his gratitude and how I wish Kei would also do the same to the lady who has taken her time to prepare what he currently eats. He should really learn a proper manner before it’s too late. I also want to officially meet his mother and ask her about how her son was raised until he can become so heedless like this.

“Ah.” My eyebrows furrow when I realize Tanaka who sits on the sloping hill with Azumane and Sawamura beckons his hand to me, perhaps asking for more watermelons. “Tanaka-san’s calling me… so I’ll go to him.”

Because I don’t need to wait for any permission, I pass by the two boys in front me. My feet may not stop moving, but my eyes broaden when my nose inhales an aromatic smell coming from Kei. Vanilla. Even thicker than yesterday. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it when we met near the stairs this morning. Maybe because of the wind that blows the scent out here, but one thing I know is that my heart begins to race like a stopwatch. Did he spray his perfume a couple of times more than usual because I said that I like it and that I want him to wear it in the morning? No, that’s too far-fetched. Kei isn’t that kind of person, but just a small what if—what if it’s true? Then I’d be so happy, right?

“What’s the matter? You don’t look really good today.” Sawamura’s caring words tug me back to reality. He places his first watermelon rind near his feet before taking another wedge from my plate. He should’ve thrown the trash away, but the grass below isn’t the floor in my living room, thus it won’t be a life-threatening deal if some ants come crawling. Just don’t get bitten and it’s all good.

“Nothing’s wrong.” I shake my head softly.

“Do you have another fight with Tsukishima?” Tanaka asks between all the chewing sounds he produces. “You guys aren’t into each other today.”

“What? Into each other? That sounds gross!” I chuckle as I tell something that could be either a lie or the truth, “We’ll eventually be good in the end, so it’s okay.”

“Oh? So you’re really fighting with him? What’s wrong this time?” Tanaka swiftly moves to his next question, ignoring the possibility that I might not want to talk about this subject. Truthfully, the words “this time” don’t sound pleasant either in my ears. It’s as if people already tag me and Kei as an emotionally unstable comedy duo slash husband and wife.

“Tanaka, leave it be. It’s her business, not yours,” Sawamura snarls before biting the watermelon he holds steadily with both hands. “Anyway, make sure to tell me if you don’t feel well. I thought maybe your body hurt because of yesterday.”

I smile at how compassionate my captain is. “Hurt? No, no, no. It’s not like I played five-set match. I’m okay. I’ll refresh myself by getting some watermelons after you guys are done.”

“Hahaha, but don’t eat too much. One time I got stomachache because of that,” Azumane who sits on Sawamura’s left adds.

“Really?” My smile changes into a bright giggle. “But well, isn’t that funny? Eating fruit is healthy, but if it’s too much—”

“Meow.”

I swear my knees weaken and my heartbeats quicken when I hear Kuroo’s flirtatious yet masculine voice directly beside my right ear. I rotate my body around to see him and Bokuto standing next to each other, but the cat is the one that traps my rationality, every single time. If I weren’t as strong as this, I would’ve died two weeks ago because of a heart attack. Not to exaggerate, but he should really stop messing up with my fragile heart. His smile, his face, his hair, his body, his timbre, the way he always comes to find me, the way he talks to me—I’m legit crazy, I need help.

“Y-yes?” I stutter at the beginning, both hands gripping my half-empty plate as tight as possible. Does anyone know how scared I am to shatter the white porcelain in pieces? I hope it won’t really happen because I don’t want to make Kuroo feel uncomfortable by being near me. I want him to stay. Just another minute is okay, but forever is more desirable.

I’m mentally inappropriate. I know. I know.

“No, it’s…” Kuroo smirks as he averts his eyes to Sawamura. “I want to apologize.”

“What’s wrong?” Sawamura replies with a confusion, but my focus lingers at Kuroo’s eyes. Just because.

“I might’ve offended that glasses guy in your team yesterday.” Kuroo walks closer to Azumane and sits to his north, while Bokuto relocates himself to be on my right. For the very first time, I detect something uneasy on the latter’s expression. Let’s say that it isn’t as energetic as usual and clearly, resulting in me being suspicious. Something bad must’ve happened between him, Kuroo, and Kei. Did they punch each other? Did someone lose his teeth? Wish I was there to witness the tragedy.

“What is it?” Sawamura asks somewhat the same question as before while still eating his watermelon.

“Yesterday I asked him to help Bokuto with blocking practice.” Kuroo folds his legs up in front of his chest and props his chin in his right palm. “Well, he didn’t want to at first, but I forced him. I told him that he needs more practice if he’s really a middle blocker.”

Of course. It’s Kei, after all.

“Eh, even if you forced him into, Tsukishima was actually willing to help with the free practice…” Sawamura uses a tone that only a moved father will use to speak about his son and I do understand why. Even I’m amazed after hearing this. Now is it okay if I say “good job, Kuroo-senpai” with a standing applause? The Nekoma’s captain surely deserves one because even Yamaguchi isn’t capable of asking Kei.

“Yeah,” Kuroo responds dimly, his eyes are riveted on Akaashi and several Fukuroudani’s players who are sprawling around the back entrance.

“So, what did you say to him?” Sawamura requests an explanation.

“I provoked him by saying that he’s going to lose to that shorty you have,” Kuroo quotes Hinata in his answer. That makes me frown.

“Uh?” Azumane gasps. “I’ve definitely noticed times when Tsukishima feels inferior to Hinata.”

The lines in my forehead get hollower. “What do you mean, Azumane-san?”

“You’ve never felt that way?” From Kuroo, the ace focuses his sight back at me. “Sometimes during a match, he’d say ‘Hinata is the star of the court, my job is only to back him up whenever he’s in the rear guard’. Things like that.”

“Really?” My mouth opens a tad. Kei and I are always stuck to each other like some sick old couple, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard him utter such a disgraceful mindset. I suppose what happens on the court stays on the court? Whatever. I just don’t like the way he thinks, especially when we all know that Hinata is no better than him. Someone needs to knock some sense into him.

“Oh, I don’t know if this is relevant or not.” Tanaka joins the conversation and I wish he’d swallow that mouthful of fruit first. “But my sister said that when she was still attending Karasuno—so during the time when the Little Giant was around—there’s a tall guy named Tsukishima in the team.”

“Eh? Tsukishima has an older brother?” Sawamura and Azumane squeak simultaneously, but their eyes are on me, expecting some sort of explanation.

“Um… He has one older brother that’s working in a bank in Sendai. His name is Akiteru,” I inform what I’ve heard from Kei around the time when we just got close to each other. “But I don’t know if he also went to Karasuno. I don’t know his age either. I never asked. It could be true, though.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is relevant with anything,” Tanaka admits his own redundant fact. I won’t call it a fault, but I do agree that knowing about Akiteru’s existence has nothing to do with Kei feeling worthless when compared to someone like Hinata.

“And that’s not it.” I thought Kuroo turned his gaze to me, but evidently, it’s to the Fukuroudani’s ace beside me. “Right, Bokuto?”

“What’s wrong?” I don’t know how many times Sawamura has said the sentence.

“You know… I told him, um…” Bokuto rubs the back of his head messily as he looks sideways at me. “I told him that he doesn’t deserve you, Hime-chan.”

“Eh?” Sawamura, Azumane, Tanaka, and I voice the same syllable in unison, while also uplifting our eyebrows as high as we can.

“Yeah, when Kuroo mentioned about the shorty in your team, your boyfriend only laughed and said that it can’t be helped if he loses, but when I told him about how he doesn’t deserve you, he looked so insulted. I thought he was going to snap and break my nose.” Bokuto keeps doing the same up and down motion against his hair. “I tried to talk to him since this morning, but he thoroughly ignored me. Sorry about that, seriously. I’ll be happy if you can send my apologies because I can’t think of any other way.”

“I told you, you’re crossing the line a bit too much…” Kuroo mumbles, albeit everyone around me can perceive his every alphabet.

“W-well, he got that huge body and height, but he never blocks anyone with all his might! I just thought that Hime-chan wouldn’t look good with someone who’s not a skillful volleyball player!” Bokuto tries to defend himself, but his voice falters faster than light. “Anyway, that’s it. Again, I’m so sorry from the deepest part of my heart. I misspoke, I understand, but I didn’t plan to have a fight with anyone during the training camp.”

“…yeah,” I quietly reply as I look over my shoulder to find Yamaguchi sitting between Sugawara and Nishinoya without Kei to be found around. I narrow my eyes, not because I’m dissatisfied for not seeing the person I wish to see, but because of the huge likelihood that the talk last night was mainly because of what Bokuto said.

If it’s true, then everything is no longer murky. I was right when I assumed that Kei called me because someone or something had piqued him. He wouldn’t waste his free time merely to make me stop doing jump serve. He could’ve done it the day after. He started it by calling himself a commoner. He said that I should’ve been with volleyball royalties like Kageyama or Oikawa. He smirked and kept addressing me as the Volleyball Princess. He compared his status to mine over and over again. He spoke so politely sarcastic, but he degraded himself and I was hurt all night long.

The pain from yesterday has been enveloping my heart throughout the daylight, but now it stings even more. I want to say that I hate how I didn’t realize any of his insecurities sooner, by myself, by my own sensibility. Why do I need a stranger from another team to tell it to me? Why do the teammates who barely communicate to him know more than me who’s always there? But then again, I’m not a mind reader and he’s not an open book.  I must blame the two of us or no one. It’s my fault for not being too sharp toward my surroundings and it’s his fault for keeping everything to himself, only to let it out through random speeches.

Still, I have no urge to run after him and begin the problem-solving talk. Yes, I’ve forgiven him the moment we had that quarrel. Yes, in my eyes, he’s always worth more than how he considers himself. What I simply need now is for him to learn a bit of respect and understanding. He needs to know that saying sorry is as important as saying thank you, even to me or Yamaguchi or any other person he’s getting too comfortable with. He should know that giving is as important as receiving, same as loving is as important as being loved. Just for this one time, I want to try the brand-new method—I’m not going to pamper him until he’s conscious of the many missing holes in his life. One is me being by his side.

* * *

“Hm? Where’s Shimizu-senpai and Yachi-san? Weren’t they here just a minute ago?”

I’m sitting crossed-legged on the sideline of the gym with Kiyoko’s book on my lap when Yamaguchi comes to me. The sunset fully hit our sky just under ten minutes ago, at the same time as when Karasuno lost their sixth match of the day against Shinzen. That explains why Yamaguchi has a towel wrapped around his small neck and a yellow water bottle in his right hand. I too can see his damp fringes that are glued messily on his forehead. The penalty he just went through was indeed exhausting.

“They’re bringing all the dirty towels to the washing machine.” I point my finger at the main entrance, where the hallway will lead to the laundry room on the north of this gym. “Do you need something?”

“No, I’m just wondering.” Yamaguchi flaps his free hand up in the air before he goes down on his feet to be sitting to my left. “So… is it okay if I ask what’s wrong with you and Tsukki?”

Since Kiyoko and Yachi told me to wait here while they’re away, I’ve been reading all the data the former wrote about the players today. How many scores each person made—besides Nishinoya as he’s a libero whose only job is defense. Hinata and Kageyama’s new quick still doesn’t work that well, but I think they’ve improved around five percent from yesterday. So far, Asahi scored the most, then followed by Tanaka. These two are what we called as the real aces. With all these numbers in mind, I don’t want my focus to be taken away by yet another topic about Kei, but in some way, I can’t help it. Thus, I lift my head and lock my eyes with Yamaguchi’s sympathetic gaze.

“What’s wrong? Did he say something to you?” I consider that as the best question I can ask back.

“No… I asked him about why you were staying away from us, but he only replied with ‘I don’t know, go ask her’… I just… you guys have never fought each other like this before…” Yamaguchi scratches his right cheek, his eyes are gliding away to Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita who idle on the empty court in front of us.

I smile at what the freckled guy has just stated because it’s the amusing reality. My fight with Kei could only last for maximum half an hour before I apologized and he smirked triumphantly. Even the longest one was still filled with some regular banter, hugs, and hair pulls. If right now seems oddly indescribable for me, then it will look beyond extraordinary in other people’s eyes, particularly Yamaguchi who’s the closest to both me and Kei. It’s funny how I’m the main character of this drama, yet I can’t explain it any better.

“Do you know that he called me out last night?” I ask another question.

“Eh? He went to see you?” Yamaguchi brings his attention back at me, albeit my eyes are still on the book down there. “Well… last night the Captain woke him up after we all took a shower. All the futons needed to be repositioned because apparently they didn’t fit. I’m sure he said he wanted to go to the toilet during that small chaos.”

“Did he hear about me doing jump serve?”

“Hm? Well, Azumane-san and Tanaka-san did mention about—” Yamaguchi doesn’t finish his words as he dilates his eyes. “Did he get angry at you because of that?!”

I shrug, giving an ambiguous first reaction. “That’s only responsible for one-third of it. I believe it’s mostly because Bokuto-san said something unnecessary to him.”

“Ah… Sawamura-san told me that during lunch break,” Yamaguchi interrupts, but it’s entirely kind because he saves me from wasting time. “What did Tsukki say to you last night?”

“Simply put, he called himself a commoner, called me a volleyball princess who should’ve been with Kageyama the King and Oikawa the Grand King. He didn’t precisely say it this way, but I think what he meant was that he’s not good for me.” My face might be as flat as the wall behind my back. My voice might be as solid as the floor beneath my legs. Pathetically enough, my chest hurts. It feels so tight, so sore, and I have to suppress the urge for blaming Yamaguchi because he’s the one who livens up this topic.

“I understand if he reacted that way…” Yamaguchi’s eyes travel back to the front. “You know he likes you a lot, so hearing people say that he’s not good for you would of course sting. It’s not like I defend Tsukki and imply that he’s completely innocent, but I’d feel the same way if I were him.”

“Yeah, right. He likes me. What a long-running joke. A person with such a rotten personality still needs a thousand years to properly like someone. If you like someone, you wouldn’t want to hurt her every single day, right?” I chuckle with difficulty, emphasizing every “like” I say. My heart suffers even more.

“But honestly, it’s unlike you to be so upset over this kind of problem. Is there something more to it?”

“Well, this morning!” I exclaim in a mid-volume, but sufficient to startle Yamaguchi. “When I saw him this morning, he didn’t straightaway apologize or try to win me back! He acted all emo and whatever! Can’t you tell?! I’m so done with how he treats me!”

There’s a moment of silence before Yamaguchi exhales a stressful sigh and wears a pitiful look. “I just think that Tsukki isn’t in the right mood. The training camp we had in middle school wasn’t this strenuous, so he might be worn out. Plus now he has this problem with you and… it could be that he doesn’t feel too optimistic being on the court.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” I frown because I’m puzzled at Yamaguchi’s last sentence. For a moment, I glance at the back entrance because I hear Nishinoya and Hinata entering the gym. I’m glad that it’s not Kei because then all the talk about him should be abruptly shut.

“Well, it’s…” Yamaguchi bends his long legs to be in a similar shape as mine. “A moment ago, I was outside with him and Azumane-san. He asked whether Azumane-san is bothered by a tremendous talent creeping up behind him. By that, he meant Hinata.”

“And what did Azumane-san say?”

“He said that he’s always known that about Hinata, but he doesn’t want to lose.” Yamaguchi smiles faintly. “I’ve never thought that Tsukki could feel this way.”

I don’t mutter a response as I duck my head and my fingers begin playing with the tip of Kiyoko’s book that’s still on my lap. I read that the total of successful blocks made by Kei so far was eight and the spikes in was thirteen. Out of fifteen sets, Karasuno’s final score was three hundred seventy-five. Compared to Azumane’s fifty-four points and Tanaka’s forty-seven, Kei has only contributed twenty-one. I don’t know what else to call him other than a failure. An embarrassing failure for being a regular middle blocker in Karasuno that has quite a good reputation after Interhigh last June.

“Hey, Yamaguchi, what kind of people that you hate the most?” I flip the paper back to the data from yesterday, only to find the same amount of effort from Kei. Should I be in ease that at least today isn’t any worse?

“The people that I hate the most?” I can’t tell which expression frames Yamaguchi’s face, but most likely it’s a clueless one. “Let’s say… I hate bullies.”

I chuckle quite audibly. “Agree. Bullies are a bunch of miserable weirdos. I’ve known several of them back in middle school and I believe they’re actually the ones with a lot of insecurities.”

“Mhm… but why are you asking me this?”

I grit my teeth, still stretching the corners of my lips. “Just curious because it seems like I have a very specific answer for that.”

“What is it?”

“Well… I actually have some, but the last one is what I hate the most,” I elaborate. “First, I hate people who bother my privacy too much. After I had my accident, the media wouldn’t stop looking for me. It’s purely annoying. Two, I hate people who think so low about me. Again, after I had my accident, so many people came to me and said stuff like ‘oh, I feel bad for you’, ‘what are you going to do after this?’, ‘your parents must be depressed for seeing their daughter like this’, ‘you have no future in volleyball’—those hurt me. I don’t have to say why, right?”

No word comes out of Yamaguchi’s mouth and I don’t mind that. If I may say, I’m the one who’s actually sorry for putting him in this awkward situation. I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Kei. We’re in the same class and club. We often walk back home together and form a team for a group project when it’s all up to us to decide. If my relationship with Kei is ninety percent, then with Yamaguchi is seventy-five the least. However, this is the first time I’ve ever talked to him about my dark side. It’s not that I’m crazily introvert. I just haven’t found the right moment because every single day was always collored with laughter. This time is an exception.

“Last, I hate—” I halt my explanation as I stare at Yamaguchi who’s been doing the same action earlier. “Question first? Aren’t you also jealous of Hinata?”

“Uh? Um…” Yamaguchi uncoils his towel from his neck and hangs it loosely on his left shoulder. “I guess a bit. I mean… he’s so small but able to play volleyball quite well, even if it’s all because of Kageyama. He’s also a regular and I’m not. I’d be happy to switch position with him.”

“Right.” I nod twice. “But what do you do after that? You want to improve, correct? You’re determined to become a better volleyball player because there’s someone above you. You want to surpass them. You use what they have and what you don’t have as a motivation.”

“Yes, if you phrase it that way… Just like what Azumane-san said, I won’t lose to Hinata.”

“Mhm. As a human being, jealousy is part of our life. There will always be someone so talented at something that we wish we could have instead. The feeling is totally normal, it’s inevitable.” I incline my body back, supporting my weight with both arms. “Which bring us to the personality I hate the most—I hate people who can only get jealous and not doing anything positive about that. There are people like Kei who can only be gloomy, disheartened, and act as if they’re born with the worst luck the world can ever wish for someone. In short, these people will die as nothing.”

“Why did you say that about—”

“But, there’s something worse than that,” I cut Yamaguchi’s intention to object the harsh truth of my words. “There are those who’ll try to attack someone above them. Bullies can be greatly considered as this type. Their topmost happiness is to see the person lives a terrible life. They’ll be thrilled to stab anyone, just so they can be satisfied and assume that their level can increase that way. If you read news, it’s not rare for someone to murder their own flesh and blood, merely because of a small jealousy over money or fame. This kind of people bear the cruelest type of jealousy. They spend their entire life being immersed in hatred and misery. It’s dangerous.”

“…that’s scary, but I know they exist,” Yamaguchi whimpers and I snigger.

“Yeah… and if the first type will die as nothing, the second type will also die as nothing and will definitely go to hell.” My words are wicked, I know. My grandparents would slap me across the gym if they were here. Sadly, being realistic is one of my priorities since I learned how to become mature. If hell and heaven do exist, then someone who murders their own family because of jealously will absolutely go to hell. No detailed explanation required.

“So… what’s wrong? Has someone ever done that to you?”

“What? Hahaha. Do you even need to ask that? No one has murdered anyone in my family.” I grip the book on my lap with my left hand as I use my right palm to help me standing up from the lukewarm ground. “I’ll go to the toilet, in case someone asks for me.”

“Uh, okay…” Yamaguchi’s voice is so soft, but I perceive it well enough.

“Don’t tell anyone about what we’ve just talked about and please, I beg you, don’t force Kei to apologize to me. Let that big baby introspect himself. Meaning, we have to stop being his nanny. Okay, Yamaguchi?”

“…okay.”

I unnoticeably smile. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (maybe almost) Everyone: Kei said all of those meanie stuff because he cared about the girl’s shoulder, right?! RIGHT???!!!  
> Me: Well… pretty sure he would have omitted the whole “princess” and “royalty” things if Bokuto hadn’t said anything. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> **Some things that I must address:**
> 
>   * I didn’t put some Ushiwaka solely for the readers’ indulgence. It’s all part of the plan. ♥ 
>   * I was quite busy till I spent 4 days writing only about the watermelon scene.  
>  Whenever people asked me during my free time: What are you doing now?  
>  I’d reply with: Writing about watermelons.  
>  They: ……… 
>   * I swear if one day I’m lucky enough to meet Kuroo’s VA, I’ll beg him: Can you please say “meow” right next to my ear? (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)
> 

> 
> Thank you for reading and see you next time for more drama~  
> (yeah yeah it’s not done yet...)


	27. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah,” Yachi keeps repeating the same word.
> 
> “All I want was to make him a better person, a better volleyball player…”
> 
> “Yeah.”
> 
> “Did I maybe make a mistake? Did I say it wrongly? Should I fix my wording?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “But—”
> 
> “But Tsukishima-kun didn’t mean any of that.” Yachi’s round brown eyes stare into my onyx. “Deep down you know it, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I’m sad.
> 
> Seriously, I’m sad.
> 
> (｡•́‿•̀｡) ~~warning this emoji might not look complete on your phone~~
> 
> [This song](https://youtu.be/dsWDUvuF0Xc) was on repeat when I wrote this chapter. I think the lyrics fit the heroine’s feeling toward someone I do not want to excessively name because I hate him. And who wouldn’t want to write/read while being immersed in Florence’s magical tone? Brb crying.
> 
> Also, sorry for the almost-two-weeks-without-update! I’ve been so busy with my job lately. I hope this chapter doesn’t disappoint you.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Ugh, my back hurts.” With my right palm, I knead the area around my lower back, as if that will help easing the pain that I’ve had for the past half hour. It’s not like it’s throbbing hard down there. It’s more like my entire body is being bone-tired, ready to use its last drop of fuel for the day and I don’t even know why, considering that I quite have a lot of stamina. Not as much as Hinata, but often enough to make me stay alert until midnight.

“Hm? You don’t feel good?” Kiyoko who stands to my right with a purple book in her hands asks, while Yachi who sits cross-legged on the floor to my left doesn’t seem to be aware of this small conversation her fellow managers currently have.

“No, it’s nothing.” I wave my hands up in the air before intertwining them in front of my stomach. “But please don’t tell Sawamura-san. He worries too much, he’ll think that this is because of yesterday when I did jump serve. It’s definitely not. I think my body is activating its summer mode, so it just wants to be shut down.”

“I understand, but are you going to do it again today? I’m sure Azumane has gotten the gist of your technique.” Kiyoko looks worried and I crack a laugh as I rock my head sideways.

“Yes, he understands my basic technique, but it’s far from the best one I have,” I nonchalantly state. A moment later, I turn my field of vision back to the front. The last match of the day between Karasuno and Shinzen was done just under ten minutes ago. Right now, everyone is doing some cool down exercises. Some are stretching their feet by bending their upper body forward, some are laying on their back while lifting one leg with the help of their hands, some are swinging their arms left and right.

Now I’m wondering of the possibility that maybe Sawamura’s presumption was right. Maybe my body isn’t in its optimal condition because last night I didn’t do any warm up nor cool down, but then again, I realize that the reasoning simply doesn’t make any sense. I was only doing some jump serves, not hundreds of them. Even if I did play a set for thirty minutes, that still wouldn’t be enough to make me feel sort of lethargic like this. Maybe it’s just me having a bad mood that effects everything else because let’s admit, a particular blonde with glasses has made me ponder hard about whether I should consider today as nice, not too much, or not at all.

Barely another minute passes when everyone from Karasuno raise themselves from the ground, almost at the same time as those from Shinzen and Fukuroudani who are just on the court beside. As if they’ve had a list of plan beforehand, all the the third years and Tanaka are gathering themselves in circle near the net directly in front of me while murmuring things that I can’t quite hear because of the distance. Kageyama leaves the gym with the rest of the second years, presumably to the toilet. Hinata goes to Kenma who doesn’t look interested the slightest at what the former wants to say. Yamaguchi kneels on the sideline near the middle entrance while retying his shoe laces. Last but not least, my dearly beloved Kei is just idling in the middle of nowhere and it’s not like I care about him. I really don’t.

“Okay, so I’m going to practice my jump serve a bit more, then at nine I’ll join you guys.” Azumane’s last sentence before going away from his group is as clear as crystal. He gazes at me as he traverses his sturdy feet onward until the space between us is only less than a meter away.

“Good job during the afternoon practice, Azumane-san. Your serves were a lot more stable than the ones in the morning. That’s impressive,” I praise Azumane with my right thumb above my chest. I feel like I must deliver this small commentary before he gets to say anything back to me.

“Thank you, it’s all because of you.” The big guy smiles warmly. “I’ll be under your care again today.”

I immediately react to his politeness with a lively chuckle. “How about I teach you my super curved serve?”

“Oh, your ultimate trajectory?”

“Hahaha, I’m flattered if you say it like that.” I nod my head a couple of times and step ahead as I look at him over my shoulder. “Wait a moment. Let me take my shoulder sup—”

“Hey, Glasses-kun!”

Abruptly, my whole attention is taken by Bokuto’s screeching voice on my northwest. I hold my trip back to my room as I choose to watch how the Fukuroudani’s captain approaches Kei from behind. I haven’t sent Bokuto’s apologies to Kei because I haven’t had the compulsion to be near the latter, but is it safe to think that their relationship is good now? Maybe Sawamura was the one who talked to Kei? Or maybe the conversation hasn’t happened, but since Bokuto is Bokuto, he probably already forgets about his mistake and acts like his usual happy-self. Though after seeing how Kei jerks his shoulders up with an uneasiness on his face, I assume none of my thoughts are correct.

“Will you help me out again with the spiking practice?” Bokuto asks nicely with both hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, I’ll pass.” Kei’s refusal comes out too fast to the point that it boils something inside me. I can’t describe it quite well, but he surely ticks a wrong emotion that makes me clench my fists.

I don’t really know what’s going on after that, besides how Hinata bombards Kei with a lot of questions on how he could get an invitation from Bokuto and why would he reject that one in a million chances. Bokuto may be loud and annoying at times, but he’s a gifted player. Ushijima and my mother mentioned about him being unstable or crazy, but I have yet to see that coming from him. In my eyes, Bokuto is the best wing spiker among all the boys here. It’s not wrong for Hinata to get all angry and fussy about Kei’s rash decision because I’m feeling the same.

“With Fukuroudani’s ace? Why didn’t Tsukishima say yes?” Even someone who’s consistently gentle and composed like Kiyoko needs to voice her disagreement. I don’t have to check on Azumane, Yachi, or the other Karasuno members to know that they all think the same as I do. Kei’s aloofness is getting too much for us to pay no attention to. It’s not on the positive lane, but on the worst of the worst.

Kei walks to where I am, but he passes by without even taking a small glance at me or anyone around me. I can’t help but link my eyes to his sluggish movement. I see him grabbing only his white towel from the ground and leaving his water bottle behind for the managers to clean. Then I open my mouth, letting a gasp in. I want to say something, I must say something—I know there are thousands of words inside my mind that drifts down to my tongue, ready to be shouted out, but my determination of not communicating to him before he does to me somehow manages to suppress down the urge.

“I’m going back first,” Kei excuses himself to Sawamura, Sugawara, and Tanaka who are still standing near the net.

“Oh, sure.” Sawamura tilts his head as he’s the who responds first.

“Good job for today.” And Sugawara adds to that.

“Oi, Tsukishima!” Different than his two seniors, Tanaka opts to call out for Kei. “We’re going to practice the synchronized attack, so help us out a bit.”

Maybe Kei’s bothered face and how he scrunches his nose up tight are the two things that start it all. Maybe those two are also combined with how he called me out last night and how he didn’t want to refine his skill even further with one of the best young aces in this entire country. Maybe because of all those days when he went home at six p.m. instead of practicing with everyone else until eight, instead of riding the train with me and keeping me safe. Maybe because sincerely, I’ve had enough since weeks ago and all of his wrongdoings are successfully being accumulated into this one sharp outburst in my chest.

“What is your problem?! Why don’t you help out?!” I thunderously snap as I stomp my way onward and position myself in front of Kei. My vocal type can be categorized as a soprano lion and it’s surely shocking so many hearts, including Ennoshita who just entered the entrance on my left. Fortunately, I couldn’t care less about anyone else outside the peripherals of my eyes.

“What?” Kei doesn’t waver at all—his eyes, expression, voice, and stance are still as indifferent as always.

“What do you mean by ‘what’?! Aren’t you embarrassed?!” I expand my arms, sort of wanting to hug the guy in front of me, but the reality is far from that. “Everyone is practicing like a lunatic because Spring High is right around the corner and you on the other hand are always choosing to sleep two hours earlier than the rest of your teammates?!”

“So what? I don’t see your point. It’s a free practice. I’m sure it means that it’s not a must for me to attend, besides the fact that my energy isn’t as unlimited as the others.” Kei heaves a long burdening sigh, as if I’m the one who’s being a nuisance between the two of us. “And can you please not raise your voice like that? Everyone’s staring, so it’s very uncomfortable and won’t it make you the one who’s being embarrassing here?”

I bite my lower lip, kind of puncturing it a bit. I have no idea whether everyone realizes it or not, but my chest begins to pump up and down, my eyebrows furrow in madness, and my palms are still clenching themselves, ready to punch anyone who deserves it. I know I expect too much from someone like Kei. If Yamaguchi can’t even slip into the five percent of his mindset, how am I supposed to take over the job of a childhood friend? But right at this moment, I just can’t restrain my emotions any longer.

“Then what Bokuto-san said was right,” I mutter a name of someone who’s no longer here as he left the gym with Kuroo and Akaashi right after he couldn’t persuade Kei to help him. “But for me, not only that you don’t deserve me, you don’t even deserve to be in this place, where people are giving it their all.”

“What did you say? I don’t deserve you? Don’t joke around.” Kei gives a quick contemplating snort as his pitch exalts. “Honestly, who do you think you are? Don’t talk so highly about yourself just because a few people still acknowledge what you achieved in the past, dear the Cursed Princess.”

“Call me however you want, but I’m not talking about myself! I’m talking about you lazing around! Why don’t you understand?!” I don’t care anymore about the intensity of my voice. I just can’t, considering how I feel about the whole situation that escalates too quickly. If Kei doesn’t like the way I speak, then he must change himself. If he doesn’t want to change himself, then he must endure every syllable that will come out of my mouth. There’s no other way around.

“I still don’t see where you’re going with this, so please hush down and mind your own business.” After a brief silent, Kei drops his towel on his wide right shoulder. “Just go play your little coaching game with the others. I’m going to rest. Period.”

“…why are you so ungrateful?” I swiftly retort, head ducking and eyes fixating at the wooden floor below. “Everyone here would be happy to have what you have. Your height, skills, intelligence, and more. I wish I—”

“You wish you would have what I have? You wish you wouldn’t have your accident? You wish you would still be able to play volleyball like I do? What more do you wish, Princess?” Kei rudely interrupts. “I’m so sorry that everything happened to you, okay? But I get it now. I know that you still can’t let go of your past.”

I lift my head as I dilate my eyes in confusion. “What? That’s not what I’m talking—”

“Anyway, you always talk as if you know every single thing about me, so why don’t you let me return the favor?” Once again, Kei doesn’t let me finish my words. “First thing first, go take a proper look at yourself in the mirror and accept that you’re no longer relevant in your beloved volleyball world. What exactly are you trying to do? Being a manager, being a coach, being a warrior, being whatever. Do you think life is that easy? Do you think just because you were outstanding in your middle school, you could also become the same thing or even better in your high school, despite having your injury? If everything were as simple as that, then everyone in the world would’ve had their own multi-billion businesses by now. There would be no war, no poverty, nothing.”

“What?! Why are you so stupid?!” I shriek, louder than ever. “Everyone you see in this building has a dream, but unlike you who can only whine and do nothing about it, we’re trying our best to make them come true! Who knows whether it will work out or no if we don’t even try to reach them?! You’re so smart in class but regarding life, you’re worse than someone with the lowest IQ in the world! So dumb and illogical that you can give me a stage four of brain cancer!”

“Hah. Yes, everyone indeed has a dream.” Kei smirks conceitedly without any hint of rue shrouding his face. “Like you for instance. You’ve always wanted to win the nationals and to become a professional volleyball player for life, correct? Then tell me, what happened last year? Didn’t you lose your dream in a blink of an eye, like it was never even there? Such a pity, am I right? Imagine all the beautiful things had you not gotten that. You would’ve definitely won the Interhigh last June, representing the prestigious Shiratorizawa with all of these super famous volleyball players.”

“Stop it. Why do you keep mentioning about my accident? Stop,” I beg softly and kindly, head going down for the second time as for so many reasons, I don’t want to see the ugly face in front of me. Alongside that, my heart beats faster, but it’s unlikely a good sign.

“I don’t know how your parents raised you up, but probably everything was always ready for you since you’re their volleyball princess. What an excellent parenting until you don’t know that ‘impossible’ is always an option!” Kei continues, ignoring my small request and judging me more than I did to him.

At first, I don’t know how to riposte to that. It feels like my right ear suggests me to just give up this time, to not extend this topic, to just let go, and basically for me to just resume my activity of helping Azumane. Yet, my left ear suggests the opposite. It tells me that if I stop it like this, then nothing will ever change. It will just be the old me versus the old Kei and tomorrow will be the replay of today. Do I want that? I don’t and that’s why I shouted before.

“…well, at least I’m not a failure like you.” I have zero clue on whether this is the correct comeback or no, but I still want to put up a fight. I don’t want to lose. At least not to someone ill-natured like Tsukishima Kei.

“Oh? Hahaha! So apparently, I am the failure?” Kei sarcastically emphasizes his last four words. “What about you? We all know who your parents are and as their only daughter, don’t you ever consider yourself as their biggest failure? I know that accident was never your mistake, but still, you ironically fell short. You’ll never be able to stand on an international court while wearing Japan’s national uniform like how they always pictured you to be when you were born. Are you even sure that you can be a good coach like them? No. You’re doubting yourself a lot of times and I was there. If you call me a failure, then what about yourself, Princess? This is exactly the reason why I told you to look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Tsukishima, stop. That’s too much.” I hear Sawamura halt Kei from going any further and I thank him for that. For a moment, I look over my shoulder to see the captain holding Tanaka’s left arm, perhaps so the baldy won’t intervene my conversation with Kei and I thank him for that. Right to Sawamura’s left, I spot Sugawara’s troubled face. I’m sure he doesn’t want his children hurting each other and I thank him for that.

I’ve said this for too many times, but everyone here is so nice, maybe even including those whom I’ve never had a chance to talk to. Set aside the adults, all the managers are always making me laugh with their jokes and I’m never bored whenever I’m with them in the morning, afternoon, or before our bedtime. All the players from the other teams are always beaming at me and I can tell that they respect me, not only because who I was in the past but because they still consider me as a capable player. Same like everyone in Shiratorizawa, they don’t know me that well, but they see me in a high place. Semi told me that he’ll always expect something great from me and I’m forever blissful, his words will permanently be tattooed on my left chest.

And dear God, among all of these available choices, why does Kei have to be the one to hurt me the most?

“Wish you were the one who had that accident, not me.” Of course, I don’t mean any of that. There’s no way for me to wish death upon someone I truly love, but my anger has overtaken my sanity. Not completely, but enough to make me say things I won’t normally say.

“Yes, yes, keep on wishing, Princess.” Kei walks past me and chuckles scornfully right next to my left ear, as if his only desire is to provoke me on purpose. “But you can only wish. Tragic.”

Impulsively, I haul the back of Kei’s white t-shirt with my left hand as I form my right palm into a perfect ball. I’m not an idiot. He might be skinny for his height, but he’s still stronger than me. I know he can nudge me with half of his power and I’ll undoubtedly fall down head first, but just like I mentioned before, a big part of my conscience has gone away somewhere dark.

“Hey! Don’t!” Ennoshita who’s been idling on my left quickly leaps forward and secures my fist, just a second before I’m ready to hurl my best shot at Kei’s waist, literally. The blonde himself doesn’t seem to be shocked at my almost-brutal action. He only tilts his head slightly to glance at me with a poker face before walking away to the main entrance. He doesn’t even look back once and I'm fine since I’ve already anticipated the impassivity.

“Hey… Um… Ignore everything Tsukishima said, okay? Those weren’t true at all.” Azumane walks closer to me and I smile at him. It’s so hilarious to see him being puzzled at my clashing response.

“Yes…” I say as I comb my middle-parted fringes with my fingers. I realize that every eye in this place is still on me. There are twelve people from Karasuno, including myself, but excluding Kei, Kinoshita, and Narita. There’s the coach and almost every player from Shinzen. There are four people from Fukuroudani who are sitting on the sideline, including Konoha. All the managers from the other teams are also present. Truth be told, rather than feeling ashamed because some outsiders did witness what just happened, I’m more sorry for disturbing their peace with an unnecessary drama.

“That guy has no manner!” Not getting enough, Tanaka yells with a voice full of rage. “One day I’ll beat him to death! He deserves one and no one will care!”

“No need, Tanaka-san. Don’t add fuel to the fire as it will never be over,” I try to calm Tanaka down before looking up at Azumane who’s still standing like a distressed father beside me. “I’ll take my shoulder support now.”

“Wait, you can just rest if you want—”

“I’ll be right back soon, please wait for me!” I exclaim, not giving Azumane any chance to brush me away. I appreciate his concern about my state of mind, but I’m not a fragile item that will shatter into shards that easily because of that small fight with Kei. Even during the worst day of my life, I’ll still be able to play volleyball better than anyone in this room. Better than my parents combined.

Without waiting for any permission, I dash my way to the main entrance and turn my feet to the left, where the hallway will lead me to the main building. I’ve known it all along that Kei will be there, walking ever so slowly, not worrying about his surroundings or the hearts of people around him. I jog my way past him, our arms are far from each other because I don’t allow mine to come in contact with his. It’s obvious that he recognizes the girl with a wiggling ponytail, but I won’t bother myself to look back and check on what kind of expression he makes at the moment. I can’t stop dragging my legs as I can’t stop my chest from suffering. All because of him.

* * *

The classroom is cold and bright, as usual. As soon as I close the door behind me, I immediately head to where all the bags are located and kneel down. I unzip my travel bag, taking out my shoulder support and phone. Usually, I wouldn’t bother myself with the second item until I’m done with all my activities at ten p.m., but in some way, I feel the need to distract all the negativities inside me and reading some soothing words from the people outside this training camp seem to do the justice just fine. Once I turn on my phone, I receive some texts from Goshiki, a few from Ushijima, and many from other random accounts. The former is my number one priority, so I opt to dedicate my short time before I’m going back to the gym to him.

 _Goshiki_  
_I hate Shirabu-san! 7:22 PM_  
_Just because I missed hiss toss twice, he doesn’t want to toss to me anymore for the entire day! 7:22 PM_  
_He does this so many times! He doesn’t cooperate with me! He always tosses to Ushijima-san and Reon-san, but not me! 7:22 PM_  
_Seriously I hate him! 7:23 PM_  
_7:23 PM_

I can’t stop giggling while digesting every word Goshiki wrote. It’s full of raw emotion and tension, but that’s also the reason why it’s so funny. What’s even better—or sad—is that he can make me smile in an instance. It’s not like I’ve forgotten everything that happened back at the gym, but genuinely, my heart feels a bit lighter. I just can’t find enough words to describe how much I adore him.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:11 PM Hahaha XD_  
_ 8:11 PM Just cry and threaten him: “if you don’t toss to me, I’ll kill myself and I’ll haunt you. I’ll possess you and make you commit suicide”_  
_ 8:11 PM Sounds like someone in that bathroom near your gym…_

I lift my eyebrows when Goshiki straightaway reads my chat and writes a reply. Yesterday I didn’t contact him at all, so who would’ve thought that he’d available now?

 _ Goshiki _  
_Huh… What kind of advice is that? 8:12 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:12 PM Just do it_  
_ 8:12 PM Or ask Semi-san_  
_ 8:12 PM By the way, are you done with your practice?_

 _Goshiki_  
_I did practice with Semi-san in the end. Way better and satisfying. He’s so kind 8:12 PM_  
_We’re having a water break now. I’ll practice more until 9 8:13 PM_  
_8:13 PM_  
_Gya, I hate Shirabu-san! 8:13 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:13 PM You’re so much like that duck_

 _ Goshiki _  
_What? 8:13 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:13 PM She’s expressive, just like you_  
_ 8:13 PM I demand you to keep using that sticker_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Huh? Okay? 8:13 PM_  
_Anyway, how’s your day? I thought your schedule would be full until 10? 8:14 PM_  
_Ushijima-san told me 8:14 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:14 PM Yeah, I’m going back to my room for a moment_  
_ 8:14 PM I want to retie my hair, but I’m thinking of checking your chat_  
_ 8:14 PM Don’t tell him about me because I don’t think I have time to reply to his chat now, I’d rather spend it with you  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_I already did because they asked with who I’m chatting with………? 8:14 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:15 PM …………………………_  
_ 8:15 PM Next time I’m going to record a video of me taking a shower and share it with them, yeah?_

 _Goshiki_  
_What 8:15 PM_  
_8:15 PM_  
_Sorry! But this is only chatting with you, so I don’t see the problem since they all know you? 8:15 PM_  
_There are thousands of things that I don’t say! 8:15 PM_  
_I won’t say what we’re talking about! 8:15 PM_

_ Me_  
_ 8:15 PM Blah blah blah_  
_ 8:16 PM Then tell Ushijima-san that I’ll reply later at 10_

_ Goshiki _  
_Okay 8:16 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:16 PM And I don’t feel too good, so don’t mess around with me_

 _ Goshiki _  
_First of all, you’re scary when you’re mad 8:16 PM_  
_Now what’s wrong? 8:16 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:16 PM Had a fight with Kei_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Again? Every time you mention him, it’s always about a fight 8:16 PM_

I smile wryly. It’s a no-brainer for me to tell Goshiki about Kei, as known as my new-found friend in high school. I talked daily about all the trivial things we’d had since I started to become a manager for the boys’ volleyball team. About our very first fight and second fight, about when I spilled red-colored food on his shirt and apologized for hours—I unfolded almost everything  that even my parents and Ushijima know. As long as it’s not about the way my players play or their tendencies on the court, then I consider anything to be an okay topic to be brought up to people outside Karasuno. Sure, there will be some exception such as those humiliating ones, but I’m smart enough to filter my mouth.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:16 PM *had a MAJOR fight with Kei_  
_ 8:16 PM I think_

 _ Goshiki _  
_You think? 8:17 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:17 PM I don’t want to talk about it now, I don’t have time and I’m not in the right mood_  
_ 8:17 PM In short: he’s not that enthusiastic about volleyball and I confronted him and we had a fight_  
_ 8:17 PM I just wish that he would be more like you_

 _ Goshiki _  
_I don’t mean to be out of topic, but I want to say something and please don’t kill me? 8:17 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:17 PM What?_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Promise me first 8:17 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:18 PM ……_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Okay! Okay! 8:18 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:18 PM Hurry up!_

 _ Goshiki _  
_So… 8:18 PM_  
_You never change your habit of comparing people 8:18 PM_

I frown.

 _ Me_  
_ 8:18 PM Explain_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Not always, but every now and then, you like to say how you wish person A or person B will be more like me, your parents, yourself, or like some other great players 8:18 PM_  
_I won’t say that it’s completely wrong because sometimes comparing can motivate people, but there are other cases, you know? 8:18 PM_  
_People like us, we want to be professionals, sure, but others see volleyball merely as a hobby or a club. They’re not wrong to think that way because not everyone is the same 8:19 PM_  
_You should understand this well enough since you’re one of the most realistic people I’ve ever met 8:19 PM_

Do I compare Kei to other people? I’ll be lying to myself if I say no. I remember once or twice, I talked about how Kuroo is such a good middle blocker and how amazing it will be if Kei can become one like him. I also wish—which can greatly be considered as comparing—that someday in the future, Kei can earn a living through volleyball like my father. Now how many times have I compared him to Kawanishi? If I’m not mistaken, this one might be the most, especially for the past two days since I got to know almost every layer of Kawanishi’s play style. I’m sure there are a few more small examples, but I can’t bring myself to remember each one of them.

And now the million-yen question comes—does this whole comparing thing have any connection with my anger toward Kei? I’ll be lying to myself if I say that I know the exact answer, but it’s safer to say that yes, indeed it has, even if it’s only thirty percent. I see Kei, I compare him to some players with high professionalism, I find that he’s not competent enough, I fail to understand his goal of being in a volleyball team that I manage, and I’m mad. I can’t accept the fact that he isn’t a pliable toy and that he owns a heart of an impenetrable diamond. Changing him is an unthinkable act and I’m the one who should adapt to that, not the other way around as that’s just a wishful thinking.

But is that really the right route to take?

 _ Me_  
_ 8:19 PM You’re right, I should’ve known better_  
_ 8:19 PM Though I don’t say it out loud, I do compare him to so many people_  
_ 8:19 PM I guess I just want to find my own “ambitious Goshiki Tsutomu” in this school, while in reality is I can’t_  
_ 8:19 PM I’ll just spend time with Kageyama because he never takes his talents for granted, therefore he won’t anger anyone_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Huh? What exactly that Tsukishima guy say until you’re this upset? 8:20 PM_  
_Do you want to call me later? I’ll probably sleep at 10, but I won’t mind staying up for you 8:20 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 8:20 PM No, I’m good, thank you_  
_ 8:20 PM I’ll go back now, I’ve been gone for almost 10 minutes, I don’t want to worry my friends_  
_ 8:20 PM Love you, Shiki-chan_  
_ 8:20 PM Sooo much!_  
_8:20 PM_

_ Goshiki _  
_Hey, contact me when you can! 8:20 PM_

I lock my phone and throw it back inside my travel bag.

* * *

There are new faces at the first gym when I arrive back, notably those from Ubugawa who out of nowhere are practicing their jump serve under the supervision of their coach. I see Yachi is helping Hinata and Kageyama with their new quick, while the rest of the second and third years are talking to each other in circle—just like before, only now is near the back entrance, instead of net. Kiyoko is missing, but I bet she’s going to the toilet or cleaning up some stuff. Alongside the gorgeous manager, people from Nekoma are also gone, maybe going to another gym because things can get pretty cramped up in here.

Among everyone who seems to be immersed in their busy world, there’s only Yamaguchi who’s sitting alone on the sideline near Karasuno’s chairs and gym bags with his legs folded up and hands wrapped perfectly around his knees. The moment I walk closer and make the freckled guy register my return, he right away stands up and stares deeply at me. I don’t need to ask anyone to know that he wishes to have a chit-chat with me and that’s the only reason why I stop moving.

“What is it?” To the point I ask. I don’t mean to be churlish, but I can already predict what we’re going to talk about.

“Are you okay?” Yamaguchi’s facial expression is as sympathetic as it can get and his eyes are locked intensely with mine.

I sneer, “I am. Are you mocking my disposition?”

“That’s not it!” Yamaguchi looks like he swears his words on his own life. “That’s not it at all… I just… I talked to Tsukki, so I want to tell you about that…”

I don’t have a strong reaction to that nonessential confession, but I know that I don’t need any mirror to authenticate the displeasure on my face. I’m having a second thought as I know that I shouldn’t lend my precious ears for this matter, but well, the only reason I’m doing it is because I respect Yamaguchi. At least for now.

“So, about Tsukki… I ran after him after you left… and I told him that he’s pathetic because he’s willing to lose that easily to Hinata when he has all the gifts that Hinata doesn’t have. I told him that Hinata might become the new Little Giant, but he just needs to beat him, to become better.”

Still no response from me, but truthfully, I’m amazed. Yamaguchi the wimpy dares to call Kei the feisty a pathetic? I wish I was there to record everything with my phone, just for a brilliant source of entertainment when I need to relax myself after a rough day. Kageyama, Hinata, Tanaka and some other people who dislike Kei will also appreciate the video. We’ll be mocking him together and it’ll be a happily ever after.

“Then he said stuff like he will never become the number one—”

“Okay, enough. I don’t care, stop talking, don’t waste your time, don’t waste this world’s oxygen. Stop.” I glare cynically at Yamaguchi because I know that his tale—which has a good prologue—will develop into an irrelevant teenage-angst about how Tsukishima Kei strangely sees the world. What does that mean? It means, I don’t find any benefit of listening any further.

“Wait, please listen. Tsukki was—”

“No. If you’re really in the need to talk about him, then go find someone else. I have better things to do than listen about his childishness and sad emo life.” Once again, I cut in. “In case you don’t understand—he’s toxic. I want him and anything about him to be far from my life. I don’t want to know, I don’t want to hear. I’m cursed enough, so I’m not looking for more misfortunes. I don’t want to die young because of stress. Understand? Good.”

Yamaguchi looks hurt because of what I said and I do feel bad for that since the one I’m angry at isn’t him. The thing is, I too realize that the more he speaks about his best friend, the more I’m going to have an emotional setback. I don’t see the purpose of not being joyful during this rare training camp. I have so many valuable things that I can do, so why would I ruin my mood which can result in me not wanting to do anything anymore? My mind is set, I’ve had enough of all the dooms and glooms around me.

“Will you forgive him if he apologizes?” Yamaguchi throws a question, just less than five seconds after the soundlessness between him and me.

“And what if you know the answer? Will you advise him to apologize? Being his nanny again? You already forget what I told you just several hours ago, huh?” I ask back, acting uninterested and disparaged.

“No, that’s not it!”

“Oh? So, do you want me to be honest?”

Yamaguchi rocks his head up and down frantically.

“I won’t forgive him,” I quickly assure before walking past the guy in front of me, continuing my trip to where Azumane is at.

And that’s how I just told a lie.

Kei. I don’t know which sentence is the best to express my real feeling other than that I love him so much. He’s always on my mind whenever he’s not around. Within the past four months, the happiest days of my life are filled either with his antics or his snarky little laughs. I reminisce how after every club activity, he’d wait for me to finish my manager duty so we could walk to the train station together and once we’re there, he’d always lend me his body to sleep on. He takes care of me in the weirdest way, like how he acted wrathful when I wore a dress that’s too short or when he’s a bit jealous because I show an interest toward Kuroo.

One day in May, our economy teacher told me to carry his twenty or thirty books from my class to Hinata’s class. They were super heavy and Kei straightaway noticed. Without me asking, he took over everything. He did complain about me being too frail and useless with some more redundant taunts, but all the way there, I couldn’t stop giggling because he was actually being kind. He was also the one who initiated the idea of buying me food during lunch break. He never frankly revealed the real purpose to me, but Yamaguchi said that he most likely didn’t want anyone to bump into me, which of course, it can hurt me. Do I have to mention the times when he clung to me, but always careful enough not to squeeze my left shoulder?

“Oh, you’re back. Feeling good?” Azumane greets me, as soon as I stand behind him. I flutter my eyes a couple of times, trying to gain back my lucidity.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, one hundred percent,” I grit my teeth while making an “o” with my thumb and right index finger. “Let’s practice on your normal serve first.”

“Are you sure? Really, you don’t look well since this morning.”

I grin broadly. “Yes, I’m good.”

And that’s how I tell another lie.

* * *

Everything doesn’t seem right. I don’t follow all the discussions and jokes my clubmates utter to each other after the practice ends at nine thirty. The path which I should take from the gym to the cafeteria looks hazy. The grilled mackerels for dinner taste good, but I don’t know why I can’t enjoy it to the fullest like usual. When I walk back to the classroom and prepare for the night shower, everything still feels unnatural. The smell of my shampoo, the two-piece brown pajama I wear, the hair dryer I borrow from Yukie, how I roll out my futon—nothing seems fair.

I’m all done at eight past ten p.m. I remember my little promise with someone in Miyagi, so I grab my phone from my travel bag and turn it on. I hop to the LINE app without waiting for anything to pop up first. Goshiki hasn’t sent me anything new since his last “ _hey,_ c _ontact me when you can!_ ” that I haven’t replied yet, but there are some from Ushijima that I haven’t even opened since hours ago. We chatted each other for ten minutes during my lunch break, but it was only about how our day had been so far. I told him that everyone ate watermelons and about my very first near-perfect experience of slicing the fruits. In the end, I was so drowsy, so he let me sleep while he would do his summer homework with Yamagata.

 _Ushijima_  
_It’s raining here. A fox is getting married 4:02 PM_  
_But is that really true? 4:02 PM_  
_Yamagata, Tendou, and Goshiki believe in things like that. I’m not quite sure 4:02 PM_  
_The rain stops now. I don’t understand 4:08 PM_  
_Goshiki told me that you’d contact me at 10 9:02 PM_  
_10:07 PM_  
_Are you free now? 10:07 PM_

I smile. There’s always something mesmerizing about Ushijima. He’s so lovely, so understanding, so selfless—simply put, he has so many things that don’t match his menacing appearance. I can’t quite depict what I want or feel right now, but somehow, I don’t want to be near him. Somehow, I can foresee myself accidentally being rude and typing some tactless stuff because there’s something unpleasant on every tip of my fingers. I’ve done things that I’m not proud of and I don’t want to be that girl ever again, specifically since I’ve gotten to know Ushijima’s kindness. That being so, there’s only one way out of this.

 _ Me _  
_ 10:10 PM I just got back from showering_  
_ 10:11 PM A fox getting married, hm? I don’t believe that kind of stuff_  
_ 10:11 PM I do believe in ghost, though, because… you know_  
_ 10:11 PM Are you there?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I’m here 10:11 PM_

I gulp down the heaviness inside of me.

 _ Me_  
_ 10:11 PM Hey, I’m sorry, but can I call you tomorrow night?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Why? 10:11 PM_

 _Because everything seems so messed up and I don’t really want to talk to you at the moment._ Of course, I can’t say that blatantly to him because then, he’ll worry too much and blame himself over a mistake he hasn’t even done. _I don’t want to trouble you._ Knowing his warmth and how he never sees me as a burden or whatnot, he would still force me to have a call with him. The last alternative is for me to create a lie. I just have to give him a random reason that’s still logic to some extent.

 _ Me_  
_ 10:11 PM I need to work on some reports about my team_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Ah. I can wait 10:11 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:11 PM No, don’t_  
_ 10:12 PM It will be too long, maybe until 11_

 _ Ushijima _  
_That’s fine 10:12 PM  
I’ve been waiting for you 10:12 PM_

Am I a devil? Satan himself? Why would I try to push away someone this adorable?

 _ Me_  
_ 10:12 PM No need, don’t wait for me_  
_ 10:12 PM Just go to sleep_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Is there something wrong? 10:12 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:12 PM No, why?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_You seem angry 10:12 PM_

What is he? A long-distance mind reader? Or has he memorized every side of my behaviors?

 _ Me_  
_ 10:12 PM That’s just your feeling_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Really? 10:13 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:13 PM Yes_  
_10:13 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Okay. If you say so 10:13 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:13 PM Then I’ll go now, okay?_

 _Ushijima_  
_10:13 PM_

I bitterly smile. I should’ve left now. I should’ve turned off my phone, but I suppose the guilt is there. It asks me one specific question of what exactly am I doing?

 _ Me_  
_ 10:13 PM I’m sorry because you want to tell me about your mother_

 _ Ushijima _  
_? 10:13 PM  
I don’t want that. You asked and I don’t mind telling you about my life 10:13 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:13 PM Oh yeah, you’re right_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Are you really okay? 10:14 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:14 PM Really_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I don't believe that 10:14 PM_

 _ Me_  
_10:14 PM Then you should!_  
_ 10:14 PM I’ll go now_ _, the coach is calling me_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Okay. Take care 10:14 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:14 PM Yes, good night, Ushijima-san_  
_ 10:14 PM Have a nice dream~_

After turning off my phone and putting it in my bag, I lay my back on my futon and close my eyes. For some reasons, no one asks for a card game like last night and I’m thankful for that.

* * *

How predictable is that when I can’t seem to bring myself to rest, let alone having an undisturbed deep slumber like everyone else in this room? Gradually, I open my eyes and lift my upper body. The room is pitch black with zero light coming inside, not from the windows behind me that are shielded by wide cantaloupe-colored curtains, not from the two doors in the corners of this room, not from anywhere. All I can distinguish is the people around me who are sleeping under the same white blanket as mine since they’re all provided by Shinzen. Some have it until their shoulders, some have it only until their waist, and Yukie has it quirky—it covers only the right part of her body.

After being mute for a while, I press my left chest with my palm. This doesn’t feel right. I squint my eyes to scrutinize the round clock above the big green board to my left. It’s thirteen or fourteen past twelve, it’s over midnight. I remember Kiyoko switched off the lamps in this room at eleven and I already acted like a cocoon at ten fifteen or something. That means, I’ve been trying to sleep for approximately two hours, trying to change positions, trying to count sheep, trying to be creative by crafting a fairy tale that could become my personal bedtime story. They were all futile because there’s something bugging me and I know that it’ll be there for the next few hours, even if I try to eliminate it with one thousand spells.

This restlessness makes me crawl out of my blanket, to the area beside Yachi who’s snoring softly. She’s so cute and fluffy that I almost pinch her smooth cheeks, had not I realized that waking her up would’ve been wrong. I unzip my travel bag to take out my phone and while crossing my legs, I turn on the screen. The sudden brightness is too intense for my pupils to adjust, so it automatically narrows my eyes down. Thirty seconds of staring-at-the-screen later, I finally question the purpose of me opening my phone. What am I trying to do? Nothing, so I plunge the gadget back into its previous place and zip my bag sideways.

I take a deep breath as I stand up, walking to the front door of the classroom and leaving so quietly. I don’t like it when people wake me up without any good intention—like what my parents always do—so out of respect, I won’t do the same to anyone. From what I’ve known, all the managers here have a pretty good relationship with the dreamland, which means that it substantially lessens my chance of making someone angry, but of course, it’s always better to still be cautious.

I look outside the big window that’s located precisely in front of the classroom’s door. I don’t move anywhere else. My head goes up, eyes solemnly staring at the beautiful dark blue sky through the dusty thick glass. There’s a small white moon to adorn its blandness. There are still no stars, not even one, but I won’t keep complaining about this bad news because again, there’s nothing I can do about that. My right hand rises to the back of my head, straightening the hair a bit as my mind begins to wander away.

This year’s national playoffs for Spring High will be held in Tokyo, which is only an hour away from here with car or bus. If that accident hadn’t occurred last October, I would’ve been able to attend the tournament, known as being the biggest one for high school sports. I would’ve been able to stand on the court, representing Shiratorizawa’s girls’ volleyball club. Goshiki, Ushijima, Semi, Tendou, and everyone else would’ve stood next to me. Before we parted, I would’ve given them a peace sign and wished them a good luck. We would’ve won the first round like it was a piece of cake and later that night, we all would’ve gathered in Reon’s hotel room and played some cards. There would’ve been plenty of snacks, fruits, and juices. I’m sure Ushijima would've gone out to buy me an ice cream.

My team might not come in the first place during my first year in high school, but I would’ve felt so satisfied about the outcome nonetheless. When I looked up to the grandstand, my parents would’ve been there, they would’ve smiled and waved their hands at me, showing how proud parents could get because of their only daughter. I would’ve sent them the same gesture. After the last match, my team would’ve gone to the boys to cheer on them and when everything’s over, I would’ve been bombarded with lots and lots of interviews. Perhaps I would’ve become slightly big-headed until I got a slap on the back of my head from Goshiki. How beautiful my life could’ve been, had I not gotten that tragedy, just like what Kei said to me.

“Hey… what are you doing out there? You can’t sleep?” I’m too absorbed in my own mind until I’m not aware that the door behind me is being slid open by Yachi. Instead of moving my entire body so I could take a good look at the girl, I only slant my head a bit, probably only showing a tiny part of my left cheek and nose.

“Ah, no… I want to go to the toilet, but… nighttime is my favorite, so… I’m just enjoying the sky…” I ramble as I turn my head back to the front again, hiding myself, hoping that Yachi would just nod and leave me alone for good. I don’t want her to think that I dislike her company, but sometimes people just want to be left alone and I’m currently having that time of my life.

“Is that so? Um… I just think that maybe something’s bothering you until you can’t sleep… but if you’re good, then it’s good…” Yachi talks vaguely.

“No,” I banish all her skepticism. “Yachi, just go back, no need to—”

I hold my breath.

“What’s wrong?” Yachi sounds concerned.

“N-nothing, it’s—”

I can’t help but choke on my words and that’s when Yachi instinctively jumps forward to grab both of my wrists. Her movement is too quick that the only choice left for me is to drop my head down, still attempting to conceal my face, blocking it from anyone to see. A second elapses, then two seconds, then three, then my shoulders begin to shudder and a faint sob can be heard throughout the corridor. The tears that I’ve tried to contain for the entire day can no longer be kept as it’s hurting me too much. I swear, it’s too much.

“Hey, it’s okay…” Yachi seems too young and naïve to understand anything, but the way her hands wander to my arms and strokes them endearingly proves otherwise.

For the next one to two minutes, I don’t articulate any word, though my body still trembles by itself. I open my mouth a tad, trying to get enough supply of air because my hair acts like a thick wall next to my cheeks, making it hard for me to breathe. All I do is just snuffling, sometimes louder, but most of the time it’s just a subdued noise of a girl who doesn’t want to wake up anyone else on this floor. I’m a bit sheepish that Yachi finds me in this state, hence I don’t want to add any additional manager to come out of the door and joins this worthless moment I have.

“It’s because of what Tsukishima-kun said… isn’t it?” I’m sure Yachi intentionally uses the gentlest words and tone possible so nothing will prick my heart more than needed. “You don’t have to answer me. I know. I also know that it was his fault for saying that, so it’s normal if you’re feeling like this.”

“No, I’m good…” My voice is as nasal as it can get and that’s why I immediately bite on my lips to prevent myself from talking any further. It seems like everything I do will portray me as a weak character and it is embarrassing me.

“Am I untrustworthy?”

“What?” I sniff. “No…”

“Then why won’t you tell me?” Yachi moves her palms back around my wrists and level them with her chin as she’s shorter than me. “It’s often better to share your problems with someone else. Don’t hide it all by yourself. I promise, I won’t tell this to anyone, not even to Shimizu-senpai.”

I rapidly shake my head. “It’s fine. Let’s go back inside.”

“Well… you’re definitely not fine.” Yachi goes silent for a moment before sighing. “Will you go back to the cheerful you once you wake up? I just don’t feel good looking at you like this and everyone also said that they’re worried about you, so—”

“I’m just angry, okay?! That guy ruined my day! I’ll be fine tomorrow because I won’t be talking to him ever again!” I grit my teeth, recklessly ignoring the danger of waking the other managers. “If it were someone else, then it wouldn’t wring my heart like this! I wouldn’t even care!”

I raise my head as I yank away my right hand from Yachi’s grip and use it to wipe my wet cheeks. My eyes look sideways to the window on my right because I don’t want to imprint Yachi’s empathetic face in my brain as it will show how wretched I can get, only because of someone who doesn’t even hold me close to his heart. My tears stream down a lot more than before, perhaps because at last, I get to be honest to myself. Why am I this upset? Yamaguchi and Goshiki have asked me the same question. Maybe those who were in the gym when everything happened thought so too and maybe Yachi even has that in her mind at the moment.

“Yachi… I don’t know if you’ve heard much about me… but people have called me things, okay…?” I speak up in between my coarse breathing. “You can just go to Google… write my name… and you’ll find thousands of things written about me just under a year ago…”

There are lines on Yachi’s forehead, her lips are parted, and her eyebrows aren’t showing contentment. Seeing her expression, I can drag a conclusion that she is at a loss on how to react to my vent, but for sure she feels the very emotion inside me.

“I don’t mind that, honestly… I know who my parents are… and… I’ve been playing volleyball ever since I was a kid, so I’ve been… followed by the media my whole life. That’s fine… I dislike being called ‘the Cursed Princess’, but all I need is close my ears… I understand that I’m unable to control how people think about me…” I need to gain my composure back as my tears keep falling like it’s a waterfall or something. “What’s important for me is that my closest friends respect me… They don’t put salt on my wound and that’s enough to boost my spirit, to make me go forward… and live my life like before…”

“Yeah.” Yachi rubs my left wrist with her thumb.

“And…” I stop for a moment, taking a strangulated breath. “No one has ever said that I’m my parents’ biggest failure… and even if someone would need say that, I wouldn’t expect it coming from Kei… It shouldn’t have been him…”

“Yeah.”

“…because I thought he respected me…”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so uptight, all combined with how he brought up my past like it was a laughingstock… and how he’s so lazy and unmotivated about everything...”

Plus what he said to me yesterday, which I can actually understand after Bokuto gave his side of the story, but still, the way he called me out was unnecessary. Plus that he’s jealous of Hinata when he’s evidently way cooler and smarter than the orange-haired guy. Plus about the last two weeks—how he didn’t practice more like the others, how he didn’t care about me, how he was never there for me, how he refused to walk me home during late night just because of indolence.

“Yeah,” Yachi keeps repeating the same word.

“All I want was to make him a better person, a better volleyball player…”

“Yeah.”

“Did I maybe make a mistake? Did I say it wrongly? Should I fix my wording?”

“No.”

“But—”

“But Tsukishima-kun didn’t mean any of that.” Yachi’s round brown eyes stare into my onyx. “Deep down you know it, right?”

“No.” There’s no pause to my answer, my tears suddenly become less. “And why are you defending him?”

“No, no, no, I’m not defending him!” Yachi widens her eyes and rocks her head side to side, maybe a bit scared that she might’ve insulted me.

“But you said that he didn’t mean any of that. Next time he’s going to slap me and would you still say the same?”

“N-no!”

“Then what? Weren’t you implying that I’m the one who should be more mature and understand his weakness? I should take it easy whenever he makes a mistake and I should coddle him over and over again like a baby?”

Bingo.

Yachi can’t give even one answer because I’m right and she’s wrong. I know all along that Kei has a disgusting personality unlike others and lately, it’s simply getting unbearable. There are some traits that people can never change about themselves. Someone who’s noisy will always be noisy and someone who’s soft-spoken will always be soft-spoken. Kei’s unwillingness to work hard and to be kind to one another are two things that can be altered. It won’t be easy, but it’s doable.

“I want him to apologize to me.” I release my left hand from Yachi and finally, I can use both of the back of my palms to wipe the dampness all over the surface of my face. “But please, don’t tell him to. I want him to realize what he’s done and come to me of his own free will.”

“But… won’t it be better if someone tells him, so he will know what his mistake is?”

“That baby knows one or two things. He’s not stupid and oblivious,” I correct the girl in front of me.

“But… what if he won’t apologize? You guys won’t be together anymore?”

I grin strenuously, slightly covering my mouth with my left hand. “I guess so!”

“What? But will you be okay with that?” I don’t know for how many times she has said the word “but”.

I shrug ambiguously. “I’m going to the toilet.”

“What? Wait! What do you mean?”

“Nothing… and thank you, Yachi, for listening to me. I really appreciate that.” I smile tenderly before I start moving my feet to the toilet that’s roughly ten meters away from the classroom where I sleep in. Yachi trails behind while constantly uttering the question of “what do you mean that you’ll be okay?”.

I seal my lips, but come on, does she even need to ask that? Of course, I’m far from okay. My chest burns like hell has been officially rebuilt inside. If Yachi weren’t here to save the day, I most likely would weep longer, maybe until five in the morning. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the third day of the training camp. I could pass out because of severe fatigue and frighten everyone. Now it sounds like an exaggeration, but who knows? And the headline is that this is only one night. One damn night.

So, how will my world be without Kei within my reach? Will I be depressed? Will I cry and ruminate on my life for months? For years? I don’t even want to imagine those scenes. I want my palms to touch his like yesterday morning, I want us to talk during breakfast like always, I want to endlessly smell his fresh vanilla scent, but what I want the most is for him to grow up. I know I made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the whole “a fox is getting married”, please read [this](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kitsune_no_yomeiri#Legend_related_to_the_weather). :D


	28. Aftereffect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m just thinking that maybe he couldn’t sleep either.”
> 
> I snort contemptuously. “Right.”
> 
> There’s a short interval before another question is being asked, “You don’t believe that?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “But Tsukishima-kun isn’t that heartless!”
> 
> “Why does it matter?” I lift the towel from my left eye for a little while. “Even if he wails while rolling on the floor right in front of me, I won’t care, unless if he apologizes. I already told you, that’s all I want from him. One sincere apology. Nothing less, nothing more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me tell you a story.
> 
> Last Sunday, I told myself that I was going to update twice a week, but around 5k words per chapter like how I used to. I’ve gotten quite busy lately and I sort of want to deliver as fast as possible, since I love all of you and who wants to make the people they love wait for too long? awww
> 
> I already wrote 3k words between Sunday-Tuesday, but then suddenly I felt so sick of my life and everyone who did nothing wrong, so I decided to play this awesome simulation game called [Banished](http://store.steampowered.com/app/242920/) (used to play it years ago, but then I moved on). I worked and played and played ~~I played more than I worked haha~~ and one afternoon, I was like “wait, what? It’s already Friday!”.
> 
> The end.
> 
> Happy reading!  
> 

The rustles of fabrics and muted whispers of girls are the two things that wake me up. While groaning and stretching my back, I open my eyes, just to feel how leaden and plumped they’ve become. Instinctively, I flicker my eyelids, in hope to make the unpleasant feeling go away, but of course, it’s pointless. Then I move to my next plan—I begin rubbing them harshly with my fingers and congratulations to me, they get itchy and feel even worse. It’s my fault anyway for sleeping right after I cried my eyes out. I should’ve applied a cold compress or at least, waited for an hour before I lost myself to my weariness. How stupid of me.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Yukie seems to notice my movement earlier than the other managers. “It’s already seven thirty. You might want to clean up soon.”

Instead of tossing my blanket away with such optimism to greet the new day, I bend my body and cover my face deeper than ever. I don’t have a power to see which expression I make at the moment, but perhaps I resemble a single mother who just got fired from her only part-time job as a cleaner at a cheap diner, while she has six starving little children at her low-end apartment. Do I need to add that her rent will end in a week? Simply put, I don’t want to be seen in this state and I don’t have to elaborate the reason to each person in this room. Many things have embarrassed me enough.

“You’re okay?” The next thing I hear is Yachi’s sweet voice from somewhere in the middle of the classroom. The blonde merely needs less than five seconds to walk closer to me and kneels right in front of my face—or exactly on top of her futon that hasn’t been rolled in. I appreciate the compassion, but by her being like this, won’t it make everyone think that there’s something really wrong with me? Sure, they were there when everything happened between me and Kei, but they don’t know that I shed a tear because of that guy. Or do they?

“I’m okay.” My voice comes out hoarse at first, so I cough twice to discharge any lumps inside my throat. I need a moment to plan my next action, but then I realize that whatever I have in mind won’t really matter as I still have to rise from the thin mattress below me and stride my way to the door. I can use my arms to hide my face, but everyone will question that over-the-top gesture and then find out the real reason. I can also do nothing and the result is still be the same—everyone will still find out that the princess just had a rough night. But it’s always better not to hassle, so I’ll go with the second option.

“Let’s go to the toilet together,” Yachi offers herself to be my escort and I swiftly nod. As if my life is in fast forward, I kick my blanket to the right, stand up, grab a small red towel and brown toiletry bag on one of the many desks near the long windows, and dash outside the classroom with Yachi. I do everything without looking around, but I can still register that Yukie and Kaori are standing near the front door, holding something that’s most likely their pajamas. I have no idea about the rest of the managers, but I suppose Mako is also somewhere near her futon. So, can I safely assume that Kiyoko and Eri are in the toilet? My only request is to be alone with Yachi, but this school doesn’t belong to my ancestor, hence I don’t have any autocratic power to shoo people away.

“Hey, my eyes…” It hasn’t even been a minute when I gaze at Yachi who stands on my left. “Do they look that bad?”

“Well… It’s not that bad, but everybody can tell that you just cried,” Yachi answers as she looks up at me.

“Yeah, I guess so. They feel huge and I’m a bit dizzy because of this,” I agree on spot. As a normal human being, I’ve cried myself to sleep before and I know that my puffy eyes won’t completely disappear in thirty minutes, when I must go to have breakfast with everyone else. I already want to bury myself someplace far because of six managers who might find out about this, let alone seventy to eighty boys downstairs. It’ll be so humiliating and I’d rather jump from rooftop up there.

“Ah, let me grab some ice from the cafeteria! If you put it on your eyes, it can reduce the swelling!” Yachi immediately suggests something logical that I couldn’t even think about.

“That’s true. Um, thank you so much for keep helping me, Yachi.” I smile warmly before lifting the towel on my right hand. “Use this to wrap the ice.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll use my extra towel. You must wash your face and eyes, it’ll also help. We still have thirty minutes to spend, so you’ll at least look eighty percent better than now.” Yachi taps my back and as if she doesn’t allow me to object her decision, she turns around and runs back to the classroom that’s only less than three meters behind us.

“Yachi, thank you!” Once more I chant my gratitude, right before the girl slides open the door and goes in. This actually isn’t enough. Words can’t describe how happy I am to have her beside me when that one person I yearn for doesn’t even deserve a place in my heart anymore. Seems like the quote that says “no one will ever walk alone” has always been accurate throughout my life.

* * *

The way Kiyoko stares at me with this indefinable look on her face while letting the tap water in front of her overly flows is something that makes me want to enter one the toilet stalls and lock myself inside until nine p.m. After working side by side with her for approximately four months, I can write down a conclusion that she’s not as expressive as Yachi and tends to steadily look calm, but lately, she has been shrouding herself with worries and concerns and much more, all because of me. Other than that, I don’t see Eri anywhere nor do I hear any sound from all the stalls, which means that she’s still in our room, only that I didn’t catch a glimpse of her before I left.

“I’m fine. Yachi is getting me some ice from the cafeteria,” I assure the manager two years above me before she gets to give any remarks regarding my condition. She rocks her head up and down a couple of times before bending her body forward to make her face closer to the sink so she can wash it. Her messy low ponytail sways to and fro, making me have to restrain the urge to yank it down. I’ve experienced the annoyance it creates, so I won’t do it to other people, even if it’s just for fun.

Without waiting for anyone to command me, I position myself right beside Kiyoko and lay my towel and bag on the grey counter between my sink and hers. For the first time, I get to take a good look at myself and truthfully, I look like a chaos. Just like Yachi has stated, it’s not too terrible that it makes me akin to a drug addict, but at the same time, it’s far from the everyday face I’m proud of. Both of my eyelids are bloated like they’ve been baked with lots of butter, with the right one being a bit bigger. Could it be because I slept on my right side? Whatever the scientific explanation is, everyone will definitely be able to visualize how my sadness overtook me last night.

“Um, Senpai, can I borrow your hair tie? I forgot to take mine from my bag…” I look to my left, to Kiyoko who’s now drying her face with a white towel. A brief moment passes when she puts down the cloth on the counter and drags a small navy blue bag on her northeast closer to her. Hastily, she takes out a black hair tie from the inside and hands it to me. I happily receive the item with a muffled “thank you”.

“He would feel bad if he saw you like this,” Kiyoko says right after as she stares deep into my eyes through the frameless double wide mirror in front of us. “Tsukishima, I mean.”

Tsukishima. Is it strange that the word “Tsukishima” pinches my heart? I won’t lie to myself and be dramatic by saying that I don’t even remember whose name is that or that I don’t even think about the owner anymore. I still do, I’ll always do, and because of that, it hurts me. It feels awful to hear the name being uttered by someone else and I know that I’d be happier to stay away from it. The reflection on the mirror seems to be unable to hide my feeling as well, shown by how my eyebrows twitch and the small layer of joyfulness suddenly disappears away somewhere.

“I… don’t want to talk about this. Sorry, Kiyoko-senpai,” I excuse myself from the topic as I grimly comb my hair with my fingers and tie it in a low ponytail that’s similar to Kiyoko’s. As soon as my eyes turn back to their normal form, I’ll go back to the classroom to grab a real comb, my own comb, and retie my hair neatly in my usual high ponytail.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I might overthink because it’s unlike you to be this emotional, but I understand. If I were you, I would get angry too.”

A faint smile is formed on my lips. At least most—if not everyone—agree that it’s not my fault, not even partially. If I must reflect on my deed yesterday and try to find what I did wrong, I would say that perhaps I shouldn’t have yelled. I could’ve become a bit gentler like the majority of girls in my class, but then again, that kind of approach doesn’t work well with someone who’s too stone-hearted. I’ve lived long enough to meet many kinds of people from different backgrounds, so I know one or two ways on how to treat an old baby like Kei.

“…is it wrong if I’ll ignore him until he apologizes to me?” I’m pretty sure thirty seconds ago I told Kiyoko that I don’t want to talk about this subject anymore, but just look at my hypocrisy. No, maybe that’s not the right term to describe my current feeling. It’s more like the road in front of me is dark and desolated—I don’t know where to step and where to go, but I’m obliged to move forward. I’m sightless and clueless.

“Why would it be wrong?” Kiyoko reacts fast. She no longer touches anything on the counter and focuses her entire attention on me.

“What if he won’t apologize? Yachi said that it’s better if someone tells him to apologize to me, but I don’t want that. I want him to realize his own mistake and if he really needs me, he’ll try to win me back, right? I don’t know, I’m so puzzled.”

“What’s with the fuss? You’ve answered your own question.” Kiyoko grins dimly. “I’ve watched you two fight countless times and trust me, I know that it was always you who apologized first. He’s extremely wrong this time, so don’t take the lead. If he treasures you, he’ll come looking for you. It’s that simple.”

I raise my eyebrows, feeling doubtful at everything. “And if he won’t?”

“So, you think he doesn’t want to fix this?”

I shrug and shake my head simultaneously. “It’s him we’re talking about. You know… he’s never good with people.”

“Yes, with other people.” Kiyoko turns her head back to the front, wiping her hands with her towel and fastening the zipper on her bag. “But you’re not included in those ‘other people’, since you’re the girl he loves.”

“Yuck, stop! Stop putting love and him in one category because it doesn’t work! And stop adding me, that’s so bothersome!” I shout before opening my own bag, taking out a tiny bottle of facial cleanser that’s full of thick orange liquid inside.

“What do you mean it doesn’t work?” Kiyoko chuckles elatedly, as if this whole thing is a joke—or maybe it is, I have no idea. “Anyway, I’m just curious… What do you like about him?”

“Huh? Nothing,” I straightaway refuse to claim that my mind holds one or two special things about Kei. Like honestly, what’s good about him? What positivity does he bear? His conceited smirk? His inappropriate choices of vocabularies? His nasty attitude? His unacceptable childishness that can crack open my skull? I swear, there’s nothing decent by a human standard about that guy.

“You keep complaining about how irritating he is and some such, but you stay. You always stay. There must be a reason why.”

“I don’t know either.” I turn on the tap in front of me, trying to signal Kiyoko to stop extending this whole disgusting tale about my made-up romance with Kei, but seeing how the beautiful lady keeps beaming at me, it appears that my effort is futile. “Maybe because we’re in the same class and club. Blame it all on the perfect timing.”

“But what about Yamaguchi? He’s also in the same class and club as you.”

“Then it’s the perfect timing’s fault again,” I answer nonchalantly as I move my face closer to the tap. Cupping both my palms, I wet my face and wash it with a small dollop of cleaner. It’s relatively quick for me to be done and use my towel to pat dry everything. Of course, there’s Kiyoko who’s leaning her side on the counter with a broad smile on her face. Who would’ve thought that she could be this inquisitive? A gorgeous kind of inquisitiveness, I have to say.

“Isn’t Tsukishima very popular? I have some girls from my class who set their eyes on him,” she continues, truly doesn’t want to let me go anytime soon, but in some way, I’m interested in this new topic. Knowing girls having a crush on Kei is like knowing that the sun will rise tomorrow morning and that everyone on earth will eventually die. It’s a general knowledge, it’s a public consumption. Yet, knowing about Kiyoko’s classmates is something that’s a bit intriguing for me.

“Some?” My voice is suppressed by a towel, but I’m sure Kiyoko can grasp it clearly.

“Three or four girls. A few, but plenty for one guy. They asked me about whether you two are dating, but I said that I don’t know. I think one of them confessed recently, but got rejected because he doesn’t want to date anyone until he finishes high school. Do you know about this?” Kiyoko explains in detail, reminding me about the small talk I had with Kei some time ago. This is indeed amusing. I remember when we first started befriending each other, he would always use the traditional sentence of “I don’t really want to date anyone at the moment” as a reason, but seemingly so, he’s changed it into a more non-mainstream one.

“Well… He’s a bit handsome and a bit tall, so it’s not weird if girls are crazy about him,” I reply while still wiping my neck.

“A bit?” Kiyoko exaggeratingly squeaks in disbelief, her eyes dilating. “I’m one hundred percent sure that Tsukishima is far from ‘a bit’!”

I scoff and roll my eyes clockwise. If Kiyoko likes Kei that much, then why won’t she date him instead? She’s breathtaking like a goddess from the sea, mature like a reliable guardian, as calm as a night wave, and not problematic like other lecherous girls. Even someone unfathomable like Kei would at least feel some shivers throughout his body whenever she’s around, but then again, I also strongly disagree with the idea of them being together since she’s the perfect example of a saint. Meaning, she’s simply too pure for an evil being like Kei. I don’t even know what I’m contemplating about. I don’t even know if it’s relevant to anything.

“And how lovely of you to praise him like that?” Kiyoko presents me her cheekiest, yet undesirable grin of the week.

“I’m not praising him! Stop imagining things that don’t exist!” I throw the towel in my hands onto the counter and stomp away to the second stall after the entrance—or I can say, the one that’s directly behind me. I ignore Kiyoko’s soft giggles as I close the door and crudely lock it from the inside. As I seat myself on the pristine toilet, I realize that the heaviness I felt when I woke up has greatly decreased by now. It’s still there, of course, but it no longer constantly pierces tiny holes on my heart every time I move. If I keep it this way, then maybe in an hour, I’ll be ninety five percent saner. Who wouldn’t want that?

“I’ll go back first, okay? I haven’t cleaned my futon,” Kiyoko notifies me, maybe so I won’t be talking alone like an idiot or simply out of politeness because evidently, I could always hear the sound of her opening and closing the main door. Whichever the reason is, I’m forever grateful that she doesn’t just leave me alone, even though there’s no need for me to be cautious of a female ghost who holds an everlasting grudge against her ex-boyfriend. That tragedy doesn’t occur around here.

“Sure! And… um, thank you for brightening up my mood, Senpai. You’re really sweet and thoughtful, I really enjoy discussing with you and I like the way you give me advice,” I murmur, but since there are only two people inside this small place, Kiyoko can surely perceive every word I articulate. “Although let’s be frank, it would’ve been better if I had said all of these before and not when I’m in the middle of peeing like this.”

The lady laughs and so do I. Her very existence is the reason why I’m this lighthearted and deep down I know that this isn’t the first time she has cast her magic on me. I need to say that it’s amazing how she does it only through words.

* * *

Yachi arrives roughly two minutes after Kiyoko left the toilet in peace. She opens the door with her side while panting and coughing like a deadly zombie almost outran her on the way here. Compared to her, my stance is too royalty-like—I’m leaning my back against the counter with one hand cutely curling my ponytail and the other one wrapping itself around my waist. If someone doesn’t know the real situation, they will undeniably guess that I’m a merciless gang leader who bullies this petite blonde. I won’t blame them, though, since I seem scarier and way bigger than her.

“Why are you running?” I question Yachi as I readjust myself to be standing up straight.

“Just… in case… the ice… will melt…” Yachi struggles to properly answer with her erratic breathing and I can’t help but chuckle. A moment later, I notice the two towels that are held by each of her hand. Smart girl. One small towel can only be effectively applied to one eye, so I’m going to need two if I want my eyes to come back to normal at the same time.

“Thank you, Yachi.” I stretch both of my hands out so Yachi could give me her towels. Carefully, I clutch on the edges, trying not to lose any of the ice cubes since I do need every single one of them. It’s not that cold because of the protection given by the thick fabric, but I can still feel some chills against my skin. I don’t wait any longer to place them on my eyelids. My first reaction of this treatment? It feels very refreshing.

“Uh… You’re welcome,” Yachi replies, maybe with a smile, but I can’t quite tell since I can’t see anything. “Um, and… I… walked past Tsukishima-kun down there.”

I open my lips, wanting to comment on how I want her to stop, how I don’t care about that guy, how I don’t want to hear any topic regarding him ever again, how I wish he would fall down the stairs, and many more wicked things that usually won’t cross my mind, but I gulp them down. I’m afraid that by uttering his name, I’ll contaminate my precious mouth even more than needed.

“He doesn’t look well.” Obviously, Yachi goes on with her story.

“Hm,” I react indifferently, though I won’t lie, what Yachi said has piqued my interest. I don’t know why this always happens—where I don’t want to meddle in Kei’s innermost drama, but someone would be able to come with something engrossing. Previously, it was Kiyoko. Now, it’s Yachi. I bet Yamaguchi’s turn is drawing closer.

“I’m just thinking that maybe he couldn’t sleep either.”

I snort contemptuously. “Right.”

There’s a short interval before another question is being asked, “You don’t believe that?”

“No.”

“But Tsukishima-kun isn’t that heartless!”

“Why does it matter?” I lift the towel from my left eye for a little while. “Even if he wails while rolling on the floor right in front of me, I won’t care, unless if he apologizes. I already told you, that’s all I want from him. One sincere apology. Nothing less, nothing more.”

“But what if—”

“Kiyoko-senpai said that what I’m doing isn’t wrong,” I interrupt her yet another speculation that’s supposedly shouldn’t bother any of us. “She said if he treasures me, he’ll apologize. If he doesn’t, then he’s not worth my time. It’s very logical, isn’t it? You don’t need any degree in psychology to comprehend that.”

“But that’s…”

“Enough with all your buts, Yachi.”

“…ah, um, yeah… I’m sorry…”

“Hey, I’m not mad at you,” I right away convince Yachi since I sense something faulty in her tone.

“No, it’s just… I’m sorry if you think I’m being too nosy, but I just want you and Tsukishima-kun to be good like usual. Seeing you two play with each other is always fun, so…”

“Hahaha, ‘play with each other’?” This time, I put down the towel on my right eye and smile at the girl who’s fiddling her fingers, wishing I could tell that her constant restlessness is valueless. “Yachi, I’m fine. Just because I’m a bit sad, doesn’t mean that the world will end anytime soon. Besides, I have you with me, right?”

“Uh, yes! I’ll sit with you again during breakfast!” It’s hilarious to see her mood elevates that easily.

“Mhm. With the other managers as well,” I agree as I apply the towels back onto my eyes. I feel the coldness begins to gradually lessen as the cubes keep melting, but this is bound to happen since I work with ice, not rocks. “And aren’t you going to clean yourself? Don’t just standing here waiting for me.”

“I woke up half an hour before you, so I already did, that’s why I don’t bring my bag with me. I just… want to accompany you, just in case you need someone to talk to.”

I expand my eyes before cracking a lively laugh. “Yachi, you’re one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known! You must’ve had a lot of best friends and thousands of boys who are willing to be your husband!”

“W-what?! No! I’ve never experienced something like that!”

“Ah, is that so? Okay, okay, okay.”

“I’m serious!”

“Of course you’re serious!”

“No! You don’t sound like you take me seriously!”

I bite my lower lip, trying to hold back the unrelenting cackle on the tip of my tongue because Yachi is just too adorable that I want to keep teasing her until I don’t know when. Knowing me, I might not stop until she gets angry and slaps me over the hallway, but knowing Yachi, her kindness will never allow her to do something cruel like that. It’s too soon to say anything since I’ve known her only for a month, but I can’t picture her howling at someone, even when that person causes a trouble on her worst day of the month. She’s like a baby panda, while I’m permanently a raging monkey. What a comical comparison.

* * *

All thanks to Yachi, the cold compress is as effective as it can get. I won’t exaggerate by saying that my eyes are thoroughly healed, but people have to take a third look at my face before they can be sure that I was crying all night long. The plan is I’m going to sit with all the managers who I suppose already know about how pathetic I was when I woke up, so nothing will be a problem. By the time everyone goes to the gym to start the morning practice, I can guarantee myself that my eyes will be back to its normal state.

I enter the cafeteria together with Yachi and Kiyoko since the others have gone downstairs earlier. According to the latter, Eri and Mako were called by their clubmates because of something confidential, while Yukie forced Kaori to go with her because she was starving. Should’ve put a quote on that last word since Yukie is twenty-four seven in the critical need to load her stomach with something. She always snacks before and after a big meal, plus before bed and after afternoon nap. If I do that, I’ll gain ten kilograms in a week and they will clump together for eternity.

There are around fifty people inside, including the managers, coaches, and teachers. Some are already halfway through their meal, some are only sitting while chatting with their friends, and some are scattering in front of the food counter with a gray tray in their hands. I see all the Karasuno’s second and third years occupying the long table near the entrance. I see Kageyama filling his light brown glass under a cyan water dispenser near the aforementioned table. Lastly, I see Kei, Yamaguchi, and Hinata sauntering back with a tray full of food. No, correction to that—only Yamaguchi and Hinata’s plates can be considered as “full”, while Kei eats like he’s in the middle of an apocalypse or trapped alone in Mars. A total eyesore.

“Ah, the boys from Fukuroudani are at our table,” Yachi tugs my left wrist a couple of times, signing that we can’t sit near the area where the cafeteria ladies serve their food like yesterday. Yukie and Kaori are also there and I don’t want to be a freak by joining the setting, even if I’m super close with them.

“Let’s just sit with everyone from our club,” Kiyoko suggests and I heave a long sigh as I raise my head to check the clock above the only door of this place. Ten past eight. It’s not like we have any other choice and if there’s one person that must be blamed, the answer is me. Aren’t we a bit late because I had to treat my eyes? In short, I have no right to whine about anything, especially since Kiyoko and Yachi have done enough for me.

After waiting for three people from Ubugawa to leave with their massive portion of rice, Yachi, Kiyoko, and I step forward to get our turn. All along the way here, I’ve noticed that the menu today is chicken _katsu_ —something that we’ve had before, but it’s delicious and I’m Japanese, so I won’t complain much. I’m in the mood of something fresh as well, so I’m going to get a bowl of salad. Green tea is also a nice compliment to the simplicity.

“Chicken _katsu_ or _tonkatsu_? There’s only one _tonkatsu_ left, though,” the chubby cafeteria lady with a long curly black hair asks as I grab three trays from the tall stack on the right side of the counter and distribute two of them to Yachi and Kiyoko.

“Eh, there’s _tonkatsu_?” I raise my eyebrows in amazement. I love the idea of breaded chicken cutlet, but I love a breaded pork even more than any kind of fried meat combined. In my opinion, pork is always one level above all kinds of food, unless if one is cooked by Chen Kenichi or Morimoto Masaharu.

“Yes, there’s only one left because almost everyone picked that,” the cafeteria lady kindly repeats her sentence with some more additional information, which at the same time validates my statement about how delicious and succulent pork can be.

“How about Yachi and Kiyoko-senpai?” I question my fellow managers who’ve gotten quiet out of nowhere.

“I’m fine with chicken _katsu_ ,” Kiyoko replies and Yachi mutters the same sentence. Call me selfish, but how lucky can I get?

“Okay then.” I look back to the grown-up in front of me. “One _tonkatsu_ —”

“I want _tonkatsu_ , please!”

I jolt my shoulders up, followed by tilting my head to the left. The sensational Bokuto is standing there with his trademark happy-go-lucky grin and thundering voice, but that’s fine. His existence in this very morning doesn’t bother me at all because even if he’s extremely annoying, he still has all the rights to live. What’s unacceptable is the fact that he wants to eat what I want to eat and there’s only one piece of it. For me, this is a battle between life and death.

“Hey, I asked for _tonkatsu_ first!” I exclaim—and claim what should be mine.

“Really, Hime-chan?” Bokuto folds his arms in front of his bulky chest. “I didn’t hear you say that, so pretty sure I said it first!”

I scowl and groan in unison. “I said it first, Bokuto-san. Even I was here first.”

“But I said the whole sentence first! You only said ‘one tonkatsu’, not ‘I want one tonkatsu’ like I did! Those are two different sentences with different meanings!”

“What?! You said you didn’t hear me say any of that, but now you do?! What a liar!” The intensity of my voice ascends.

“Let’s just ask the cafeteria lady!” Bokuto moves his vision to the woman behind me. “Who asked for the _tonkatsu_ first?”

“It’s the girl and anyway, young man, learn to understand the rule of ‘ladies first’,” the cafeteria lady answers and I clench my right hand triumphantly. This  _tonkatsu_ is mine.

“No way! Who invented that because I’m absolutely against it!” Bokuto begins to gyrate like an owl under fire and if I weren’t patient enough, I would’ve smashed the back of his head with a tray. Maybe that could calm him down, which equals peacefulness to humanity. I never hate him, but I’ll love him more if he’s a bit quieter.

“Bokuto-san, it’s only a piece of meat. Just give it to her.”

The benevolent voice coming from paradise makes me turn my head sideways and I wittingly simper. “Ah, Akaashi-senpai.”

“Sen—what?! Hang on! _Senpai_?!” I swear, Bokuto has officially become the main attraction during this particular breakfast. “Akaashi, since when did she call you a _senpai_?!”

Akaashi widens his blue eyes as they travel between me and Bokuto. “Not sure, but I don’t mind that.”

“Argh, you also call Kuroo _senpai_ , don’t you?! He told me that!” Bokuto uses both of his hands to ruffle the spikiness on his head. “That’s so unfair! Being called _senpai_ by Hime-chan!”

“Seeing how you just treated her, it’s only a wishful thinking to make her call you the same way.”

“Akaashi! Don’t bring me down like that!”

“I’m sorry, don’t mind him. Please grab your food.” Ignoring the ace, Akaashi’s eyes are fully back on me. I give him a small nod before finishing everything that’s been halted by a superfluous being that is Bokuto. The cafeteria lady serves me a plate full of steamed white rice with one _tonkatsu_ and its dark brown sauce on top of it. On the side, I get a bowl of shredded cabbage and cucumber salad. Yachi and Kiyoko also have the same thing, only that Yachi eats way less than Kiyoko and Kiyoko has it even less than me. I would call myself a pig in disguise, but we have someone like Yukie who eats more than Azumane, so I feel a bit better—and I still envy her rapid metabolism.

As soon as I’m sure that everything’s good, I say my goodbye to Akaashi and I pay no attention to Bokuto who’s protesting about the unfairness—in which I’m not that friendly to him or whatever assumptions he has in mind. Just like what his setter has already stated, seeing how he treats me, it’s only a wishful thinking for me to be anything other than unwelcoming. Though if I have to be honest to myself, he always entertains me with his eccentricity and being with him will never be boring. Overall, he’s a likeable person and a better friend, only that right now, I’m not planning to have him as one. Too many extraordinary people will be too jarring for my fleeting youth.

Kiyoko leads the way back to the table where everyone from Karasuno is at while Yachi sticks close to me. Throughout the short trip, the three of us discuss about the crispiness of the panko breadcrumbs on our _katsu_ , Kiyoko’s mother who always adds star anise when cooking rice so it’ll become very fragrant, and our salad that looks too dry and might need more dressing. I’m not really picky when it comes to food, as long as they taste good. Whenever I want to grumble over the smallest thing like a soup that’s too thick or a steak that’s too well-done, I’ll always remind myself that there are a lot of people out there who can’t even get clean water for their daily supply. A mindset like that will teach me to be grateful at everything I own.

Barely a minute passes when we reach the long table full of trays, plates, bowls, glasses, and some banana peels. Since the time Kiyoko told me to sit with our boys, I had taken several peeks on which area might be empty and luckily, all the options are far from Kei. Some are between Ennoshita and Sawamura, then there are two spots beside Azumane. I’d rather choose the last one because I pretty much have the strongest bond with the bearded guy among all of my other male seniors, but I want to sit close to both Yachi and Kiyoko, so the first one is the only place where I can go. After whispering my selection to the two girls around me, I start moving my feet.

“Ah!” As if it’s smartly planned by all the divine beings above the sky, the moment I walked behind the line where all the first years are sitting, Kei—who doesn’t have the slightest hint that I’m here—repositions himself and both of his elbows somehow manage to jab my right waist. It doesn’t hurt, but I’m startled and I must balance the tray in my hands so nothing will spill.

The blond promptly rotates his head, followed continuously by Hinata, Yamaguchi, then Kageyama. I didn’t plan this. When I woke up after only a few hours of sleep, I didn’t think that I would lock my eyes with him like this. He doesn’t care about me, he reopened my wounds, he broke my trust, I don’t want to be near him ever again, but those beautiful golden irises are mesmerizing. I too notice that his short and wavy fringes are damp, most likely from washing his face and not letting it dry completely. And why would he allow Hinata to sit beside him? He dislikes the shorty, so why? What’s the reason? Maybe he does it on purpose so I couldn’t be by his side? Why does everything seem so out of the reach?

No, I should stop. I should look away because this person doesn’t think of me like I think of him.

“Hey, be careful…” With all the strength I possess, I coldly curl my lips. “…Tsukishima-kun.”

Kei isn’t the only one to broaden his eyes. Everyone does, even to the point that they need to abruptly stop their on-going chatter. This must be shocking, mustn’t it? I won’t act all innocent because I know what I’m doing and I know why everyone reacts this way. I’ve always called Kei with his first name and I never call anyone with the suffix _-kun_ because I consider that to be too formal. That being so, the word “Tsukishima-kun” does leave a bitter tang on the tip of my tongue. I might not be able to taste my breakfast anymore.

“Yes.” That’s the only word that comes out of Kei’s mouth before he turns back to the front, finishing his half-eaten dish.

Can anyone guess what I really want to do now? I want to put down my tray and hug him from behind, wrapping my arms very tightly around his back. I want to say that I’m sorry for being angry to the point of ignoring him and for us to just forget about everything. That’s fine if he still doesn’t acknowlegde his mistake. I won’t bother myself with wanting him to learn how to apologize. I will sail around the world for him, but I know that it’s wrong. It’s not teaching, it’s spoiling, and that’s unhealthy.

I softly sigh as I progress onward to seat myself beside Ennoshita with Yachi and Kiyoko. After placing my tray on the table and take the first mouthful bite of my food, I join Sawamura and Sugawara’s conversation about this brilliant female stand-up comedian that they watched on Youtube last night. I giggle when they tell me the example of her joke, I laugh louder at the third one, but then I can’t help but glance at my northwest, where Kei is quietly chewing his rice with an obvious offended facial expression. This is the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I name the next chapter “Premiere”, “Flash”, or “Dreamweaver”? If no one answers, I won’t be updating until next June. ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ


	29. The Textbook Description of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you even know why you’re that special in his eyes?”
> 
> “Um, no?” I bite my lower lip nervously, unsure at what’s going to come. “Did he tell you?”
> 
> “No. You know he’s not an open book.”
> 
> “Then do you know?” I massage my left arm with my thumb, even though there’s no benefit on doing that. “Wait, don’t tell me… Are you going to use the ‘because you’re different than any other girls’ cliché?”
> 
> “No, you’re more than that.” Yamaguchi shakes his head, as known as a little habit of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I was just kidding. The previous chapter was titled “Aftereffect”, sort of a pun of “After Effects”, one of [Adobe products](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Adobe_software). That’s why I asked whether this one should be called “Premiere”, “Flash”, or “Dreamweaver”. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> But well, I should’ve gone with “Photoshop” instead. Hahaha, haha, ha, I’m unfunny, please help. ;_;
> 
> ANYWAY, the _real_ title of this chapter is inspired by the lyrics in RADWIMPS’ song, [Sparkle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2GujJZfXpg).
> 
> The direct translation from the Japanese version:  
>  _Whenever we were face to face, you always gave a shy smile before playing coy._  
>        _Your smile was like a textbook description of this world._
> 
> The English version of the song:  
>  _When you appeared in front of me, you acted shy, but I didn’t miss your grinning face._  
>        _It’s like it fits the textbook of this world of “How to Make Your Smiling Face”._
> 
> Now don’t get me started on how much I love _Kimi no Na wa._ , especially its soundtracks. I’m crazy, I haven’t stopped listening to Nandemonaiya for every single day since last October.
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> 2\. I’m a bit confused about the timeline of the summer training camp. They show day 1-4, but then suddenly jump into day 7 (the last day)? So in the end, I must reposition some scenes.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Oh, you’re alone?”

Yamaguchi comes to the outdoor sink in front of the first gym, at the same time as when I’m done rinsing Sawamura’s bottle. I still have to do the same thing to eight other bottles, but the lunch break has started since five minutes ago, which means that I don’t have to worry about delivering these cleaned bottles as they won’t be used until this afternoon. That’s also the sole reason why I don’t mind turning off the tap and proceed to dry my hands off with a small white towel that is put just next to two grayish bottle carries. Yamaguchi himself is just standing to my right, waiting while watching every move I make fervently.

“Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi are going to the laundry room to wash the dirty towels,” I finally give an answer as I look sideways to the tall guy I’m speaking to. Everyone from Karasuno had gone to the cafeteria right away after the last set versus Ubugawa ended, but evidently, this  beloved pinch server chose not to join them. Somehow, I can already predict the reason behind.

“I see. I notice that you never help them with that. Why?” Yamaguchi asks with a sweet voice he’s always had.

“With washing the towels?” I need to make sure that what I have in mind is correct and as soon as Yamaguchi nods his head, I heave a long sigh. “You know I can’t lift my left shoulder, so it’s problematic for me to hang the towels on the clothes line. I can’t even wash my hair that freely because of this injury.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi widens his eyes and softly rubs the back of his head. “Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” I say, eyes falling on the rocky ground below for only a second before staring at Yamaguchi once again. “So… why are you here? Want to talk about your precious friend again?”

My words seem to hit the right spot, shown by how Yamaguchi scrunches his nose uptight. “Um, today he did a good block, didn’t he? Everyone was amazed. I’m just… curious of what you think about that.”

“Good block? When?” And I honestly have no idea of what Yamaguchi’s specifying. We’ve had five matches and twelve sets in total. I was on the sideline all the time to observe my players attentively, but there was none of Kei’s blocks that could be considered as a superb one until everyone was in awe. Did he perhaps do that when I—for some reasons and perfect timing—closed my eyes? Or it’s just my expectation that’s a tad too high? It would be preferable to assume both.

“That one time when Bokuto-san from Fukuroudani changed his spike into a feint. It’s all because of Tsukki’s block.”

I raise one of my eyebrows and tilt my head to the side. “I didn’t see. Maybe that happened when I was filling the bottles or talking to someone else.”

“Um, yes, maybe…” Yamaguchi’s eyes hop away from mine to the sink beside us as he scratches his left cheek with his index finger. “I think he took something from the talk we had. I mean, the talk between the two of us and him yesterday night.”

“Ho… That’s good then.” The confusion on my face shifts into a half-hearted smile. “I guess I should fight him more—or no, I should just keep our relationship unsettled like this if that means he’ll play well. This is such a weird way, but he isn’t normal either.”

Yamaguchi goes silent for a moment before he lets out a breath full of despair. “Why did you call him with his surname during breakfast?”

“Oh, apparently, I’m not allowed by a law? Should I commit _seppuku_ now?” I chuckle cynically, not being serious about any of those words because I’m not in the right mood to do or to be anything. If I could depict what I’ve been feeling since yesterday with a diagram, then it would be a long line full of curves. A never-ending ups and downs of how I’m happy for one time and feeling terrible for the next minute. Needless to say, the drama has started to take its toll on my mental.

“Look… I understand if you’re mad and disappointed at Tsukki.” Another sigh comes from Yamaguchi, only this one sounds hollower. “But don’t you think you’re making everything worse by behaving like this?”

Instinctively, I furrow my eyebrows, feeling somehow insulted, but it’s all so conflicted. If previously I managed to shut Yamaguchi down by using a considerably sharp question, this time the same thing is being sent back to me. It’s not like I’m a stubborn girl who’s not willing to accept people’s opinion about me. It’s just that I don’t want anyone to tell me that I’m wrong in this specific case. Whatever I do to Kei, I consider that to be righteous, unless if I torture him after I murder his entire family out of revenge or something.

“Wow.” I turn to face the sink, eyes fleeting away to the tap. “Where did you gain this courage from? Yesterday you yelled at him and today you’re scolding me? Where’s my old and meek Yamaguchi? I kind of miss him.”

“Because both you and Tsukki are my closest friends, therefore I want the two of you to be good with each other,” Yamaguchi answers too sincerely that it results in me having to think hard to retort so his heart won’t be broken, but since I’m someone who often talks too much, there’s no way for me not to say a word back.

“Uh, okay, but that was rhetorical.” Without looking the faintest at him, I tuck Sawamura’s cleaned bottle upside down into one of the carries and put the lid carefully above it. This way, the bottle will dry up naturally by itself. I get going on grabbing another dirty bottle and before I turn on the tap in front of me, I take a moment to read the name written on the front side of the yellow container.  _Noya_. The person who drinks the most.

“You’re not the only who’s hurt. Didn’t you see his face when you called him that way?”

“Mhm, I saw. What a babyface he had right there,” I reply nonchalantly as I open the lid of the bottle in my hands under the streaming water. I might rotate the tap a bit too much to the right, but in some way, I want to keep it like this because it helps me stifling Yamaguchi’s voice. Call me rude, but this is better than brushing him away or telling him to mute himself and never come to me again if all he does is talk about Kei.

“Could you sleep last night?”

“Huh? Why couldn’t I? I had a great sleep. No one asked to play cards, so I didn’t stay up late,” I fluently explain, proving that I’m still qualified to one day become a prominent actress and win a Newcomer of the Year, even if lately I haven’t been using my gift as much as before.

“Because Tsukki couldn’t.”

I insolently snort, removing the soap bubbles all around Nishinoya’s bottle with the pouring water. “In which dimension? Your dream?”

“Hey, I’m not making it up.” Yamaguchi doesn’t sound to be amused at my rejoinder. “He woke up around three in the morning and coincidentally met me in the corridor when I went back from the toilet. He said he wanted to go the toilet too and told me to leave him alone. I couldn’t sleep, so I played some game on my phone. I was still wide awake when he came back two hours later.”

“You’re making it up,” I immediately accuse with a disdainful face that Yamaguchi might’ve wanted to punch since ten minutes ago. I usually don’t have a huge skepticism for whenever I hear people’s story, as long as it’s logical. Fortunately, I’m clever enough to differentiate something that’s realistic or pure fantasy. Yamaguchi is one of the few people that I’ll believe a bit more than those who I’m not very familiar with, but Kei meeting him at three in the morning and stayed up until five because of me? That’s soap opera.

“Why do you think that Tsukki doesn’t care about you? He does. Just because he’s a bit cold-hearted and far from being a good talker, doesn’t mean that this fight never flashes through his mind. You should’ve known better since you’re the only girl at school he’s close with.”

I don’t give a reply, my hands hovering over the carrier to put Nishinoya’s bottle back to its place and take another dirty one. Same as before, I read the name on the front of the said item. This one is Hinata’s. He drinks a lot. Not as much as Kageyama or even Nishinoya, but still more than most of the second years who aren’t regulars. Does his small body have anything to do with this? Like it can only contain less liquid, even when he’s that energetic? No, I’m sure it doesn’t.

“I’ve known him since I was in third grade. You admit it yourself that he’s good-looking, but he’s also smart, tall, fearless, and just like what you said last night, he owns things everyone else has always wanted. Throughout the time, many people—not only girls—wished to be closer to him, but he never even took a glimpse of them. I was always there, so trust me when I say that I’m not lying. He has an indestructible guard.”

“Hm.” I’m still not too keen on Yamaguchi’s melodrama speech and yes, it’s bit tragic that I care more about the bottle in my hands than anything related to a living being named Tsukishima Kei.

“Do you know that some of the most beautiful girls in our middle school confessed to him, but he rejected all of them? He didn’t even remember their name before and afterward. He didn’t mention them ever again, even until this day, he never does. There’s this one girl during our third year. She’s so nice, and pretty, and popular, and simply flawless, but she still got rejected until many of the boys mocked Tsukki behind his back. Calling him full of himself and many more harsh words.”

I click my tongue, finally feeling bothered by the story of how Kei loves me that much, the one that I’ve heard countless times until I get so sick of it. “Stop. Why are you telling me this? Whatever happened to Tsuki—”

“Because when you came to his life, he changed! And stop calling him with his surname!”

My heart feels like it slides out of my lungs as I stare with open eyes at Yamaguchi, especially at those long dents sculpted on his forehead. For the next ten seconds or so, I can only blink languidly while parting my lips wide enough, maybe hoping that the air that goes in and out can loosen the terror inside of me, created by how Yamaguchi just raised his voice and screamed. In general, he’s a gentle person. Considerate, tolerant, not easily distraught by the commotions around, but it appears that his patience is wearing thin. He’s had enough—enough of me, of Kei, and truthfully, there’s nothing more terrifying than witnessing someone calm losing his cool.

“He began to open his heart because you’re there! Don’t you understand?! Why do I have to keep explaining to you?!” Yamaguchi continues, not allowing me to have another second to breathe. At the same time, I spot some people from Nekoma leaving the gym that’s only seven meters away, including those faces that I remember very well. They notice the uproar near the sink and of course, they take a long glance at my direction, making me sure that everything I do will definitely aggravate the situation. I won’t be shocked either if Kuroo has already labeled me as a controversial girl because trouble has always been my friend, even long before I enrolled myself in Karasuno.

“Y-Yamaguchi.” I switch off the tap that’s been overly flowing without being utilized and drop Hinata’s bottle on the damp edge of the sink. “I’m… sorry… okay?”

“After that happened, Tsukki completely changed.” Not reacting to my apology or people from Nekoma behind him, Yamaguchi keeps muttering syllable after syllable with eyes as gloomy as the sky from yesterday night. “He couldn’t laugh sincerely like when I just met him. I was there every day, so I knew.”

“What do you mean?” I use the softest timbre I can possibly express because I don’t want Yamaguchi to snap and kick me right in the gut—although I believe he will never do that to a lady. “What happened—”

“When we entered middle school, he got his headphones as a birthday present from his parents and he shut himself even more from everyone, including me. During school breaks, he would only sit on his desk and stared outside the window while listening to music. Ceaselessly until the bell rang. He spoke less and less. He wasn’t enthusiastic about anything. He still joined the volleyball team and got chosen as a regular since the first year, but he never played greatly. We couldn’t pass through our third round, but he never looked frustrated like the other players. He even retired as soon as he got into the senior year. Seemed like he walked on a stormy wasteland, without having any destination to reach nor solid purpose to accomplish.”

I open my mouth, intending to beg Yamaguchi to explain what he’s talking about before going any further, but seeing the wrath on his eyes, I back down. I must say again that right at this moment, I fear the guy. It’s not like the way he is now is immutable, but it’s something I don’t recognize as I’ve never seen him speak this courageously to someone. With that in mind, I don’t dare to lock my eyes with him, hence I lower my head and wonder whether Kei also felt the same way last night. Most likely the answer is yes if the talk could make him do a decent block, at least according to other people.

“Do you know how happy I was when you first came into his life? He learned to laugh again, to make funny jokes, to cutely tease you, to care about his surroundings like before. Do you realize that after you got close to him, he only wore his headphones when he went alone to the school in the morning? During lunch break, he would keep his headphones inside his bag. On the way home, he wrapped it around his neck and would only be used after you safely arrived at your station. Everything he did was because you’re there, because he’d rather spend his time with you.”

“Y-yes, Yamaguchi, I do know and realize.” This time, I mean it. I’m not saying stuff just so Yamaguchi will be done faster with his lecture and leave me for good, but why do I feel like I want to cry? I’m genuinely scared of some things that I can’t even describe. One thing for sure—it’s amazing how Yamaguchi is the one to make me feel this way, instead of someone more aggressive like Sawamura or Tanaka.

“Then why did you say that? That he doesn’t care about you.” At last, the tone full of tension I perceive gradually softens.

“I’m just… mad. I’m sorry.” I wrap my right hand across my waist, propping the palm on my other elbow pit. “Like I said, all I want is for him to apologize and he’s not trying, let alone doing it for real… Maybe he even keeps his distance from me…”

“Tsukki is just like that. You’re the one who should talk to him and point out his mistake, so he’ll learn. I wanted to go your way by letting him think by himself, but it’s a waste of time. It won’t work,” Yamaguchi adds. “Do you even know why you’re that special in his eyes?”

“Um, no?” I bite my lower lip nervously, unsure at what’s going to come. “Did he tell you?”

“No. You know he’s not an open book.”

“Then do you know?” I massage my left arm with my thumb, even though there’s no benefit on doing that. “Wait, don’t tell me… Are you going to use the ‘because you’re different than any other girls’ cliché?”

“No, you’re more than that.” Yamaguchi shakes his head, as known as a little habit of his. “I think for Tsukki… you’re someone that he can protect, but also depend on. You can be his younger sister, older sister, best friend, but above all, he sees you as a role model. For the better and the worse.”

“For the better and the worse?” I transform Yamaguchi’s last sentence into a question.

“Maybe.”

“Huh? What maybe?” I lift both of my eyebrows, not feeling content with Yamaguchi’s clarification so far. “You mentioned about something happening to him that made him change. What was it?”

“Nothing. Why did I say that? Sorry, I just got caught up in the moment and… sorry also for speaking like that to you.” Yamaguchi gazes down with a guilty face and I’m glad to have the old him back, not the version that’s ready to devour my head at any given time. He’s meant to be an angel, not a fiend.

“Don’t mind that. I’m sorry too.” I avert my eyes to the bottle carriers beside me, then back at Yamaguchi. “Hey, help me wash all the bottles and let’s have lunch together with Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi.”

Promptly, Yamaguchi gives me nothing, but a warm smile. It’s not like I didn’t know this before, but this time, he reassures me that he’s such an excellent companion for everyone to have. He cares deeply about his friends and wants them to be joyful, even when he has all the rights to simply ignore everything and live his life like usual.  He apologizes when he needs to and he accepts mine without acting up or contemplating twice. How could two childhood friends who went to the same school for years, who were taught under the same teachers, who studied the same school books, and did many more things together be poles apart?

Goshiki was right again. For the nth time, I compare Kei to someone else.

* * *

I hope I’m not the only who feels that the night comes faster than usual, which is weird since it’s summer, when the days should’ve been longer. Just like yesterday and the day before it, right after the very last match of the day ends, I spend an hour and a half to be with Azumane. Sometimes I give some constructive advices to Yamaguchi who’s still struggling with his jump float serve and that’s it. At nine thirty, I move to the cafeteria to have dinner with everyone from my team—excluding Kei who’s apparently practicing again with Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi at the third gym—and finish the day off by taking a shower. A full relaxing one under cold water that hopefully will wash away all the negatives I carried from the gym.

Once I’m done, I walk back to my room. As I use a hair dryer to give a finishing touch to my hair, I listen to Yukie who wants to play cards, but all the managers besides Kaori seem to be unenthusiastic about it. I don’t mind joining her, but I don’t think I’ll survive until the third round. Last night, I only slept for roughly six hours and even if I did get a three-hour rest after lunch, my body craves for more. I would love to throw myself under the blanket on my futon, but I remember that there’s someone I need to be with right now. As soon as my hair is neatly combed, I grab my phone out of my travel bag. I turn the screen on and smile when the battery percentage is still above ninety percent. Turning it off when it’s not being used really saves me time. Without waiting for everything to load, I open my LINE, ignoring some chats full of adorable complaints from Goshiki and hastily heading to Ushijima.

_Me_  
_ 10:11 PM Ushijima-san~~~_  
_10:11 PM _

Wait, that’s wrong. Why did my fingers choose that sticker? Ushijima will absolutely misunderstand. Sadly, the guy reads and replies to my message faster than I’m able to explain my tiny mistake.

_Ushijima_  
_What’s wrong? Don’t cry 10:12 PM_  
_Where are you now? Should I call you? 10:12 PM  
_

One score for me.

 _ Me _  
_ 10:12 PM No, not crying! I clicked on the wrong sticker!_  
_ 10:12 PM But yes please, let’s have a call_  
_ 10:12 PM I’ll go out first, I’m still in the classroom_

 _Ushijima_  
_Really? Don’t hide anything from me, please? 10:12 PM_  
_I’ve been worrying about you since yesterday 10:12 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:13 PM I’m not lying and there’s nothing to worry about_  
_ 10:13 PM Really, I clicked on the wrong sticker >.<_

 _Ushijima_  
_Really? 10:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:13 PM Really!_  
_ 10:13 PM Hang on, I’m going outside_

 _Ushijima_  
_Okay. I’ll wait 10:13 PM  
_

I keep my phone safely inside the pocket of my long-sleeve white pajama and leave the classroom in secrecy. Maybe that’s not the right term to describe what’s happening, but let’s say that no one really asks the reason why I’m going away without even giving any comment about Yukie’s plan to spend the night. I prefer to believe that they’re simply too busy with their own things until they don’t notice me moving. Shortly after, I find myself walking alone on the hallway in the front of the main building. There are still some boys within a twenty-meter radius around me, but as long I speak softly, no one will be able to even know that I’m here.

_Me_  
_ 10:15 PM I’m outside_  
_10:15 PM _

As always, I instantly receive a call from Ushijima. How cute.

“Hello.” As soon as I pick up the call, I greet the guy on the other side while my eyes are scanning around to find myself a perfect bench to sit. I need the one that’s not too close to the building where everyone walks in and out so there’s no possibility for them to start a conversation with me, but also not too far because even I can get creeped out by the murkiness of the night.

“Ah, you sound well.”

My first reaction is to giggle. “What? Of course, I sound well. I told you, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yes,” Ushijima says. “I miss hearing your voice.”

My heart skips a beat as I lift my eyebrows in surprise, but the feeling is quickly gone by the time I reach an empty bench under a bright yellow street lamp. “It’s only been two nights since the last time you heard my voice, hasn’t it?”

“Mhm. That’s long.”

“That’s short,” I correct Ushijima with my own opinion.

“But we used to have a phone call every day.” Seems like he doesn’t want to give up. “You don’t feel the same way?”

“No, I do. I miss you.” I expand my eyes when I realize that I’ve—perhaps—answered wrongly. “I mean your voice!”

“Ah, which one?”

 _Which one?_ Does he soberly ask that? Doesn’t he feel shy? Because I surely do. I won’t blame the summer for the heat I feel rising on my neck and face. Unconsciously, I knead my forehead, being dumb by thinking that maybe this can grant me calmness.

“Your voice.” After five seconds, I mutter.

“For me, it’s both. I miss you and your voice.”

“Stop it, Ushijima-san…” I demand with a squeaky voice. If he keeps on going with his sugary words, I’m afraid I’ll get a heart attack and die sitting on this bench. That won’t be classy. At least let me die in Titanic-way or something more memorable.

“Sorry.” For some reasons, the ace apologizes, yet I know the thrill won’t end anytime soon. “But can I see your face?”

I bite my lower lip, deep down cursing my ability to precisely foresee the future. “Um, video call?”

“Is there any other way than that?”

“But I can’t hear you.”

“You don’t bring any earphones with you?”

“No, I use my earphones exclusively for my laptop. Normally when I’m out, I’d borrow from someone.”

“From Tsukishima Kei?”

Spectacular, isn’t it? How Ushijima still remembers that small event from weeks ago, when Kei came to me, asking for his earphones that I had given to Yamaguchi. To think of it, that was actually the first time Ushijima knew about Kei, so it’s pretty logical that it leaves a discernible trace behind.

“Yes, from him, but, um… I can’t, because…” I want to lie, I really do, but not to Ushijima. “I’m fighting with him, so we haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“Fighting? About?”

“I can’t tell you, sorry.” Or it’s more like I don’t want Ushijima to see Kei in a different light if he knows all the vicious things that have been said to me.

“I see.” There’s a moment of silence before I receive another question. “Does he hurt your feeling?”

“Uh, not much.”

“Then he does.”

“Not… much…” My articulation wavers and the happiness I felt just a minute ago begins to falter without me having any power to prevent it from happening. “I just… I don’t have many close friends here, so it sucks to fight him.”

“You don’t have friends? What are you talking about?” Ushijima’s voice increases by a semitone and I understand if my statement feels like a puzzle to him. I’m pretty much good with people and I can initiate a great topic in a group, so hearing me say that I don’t have many close friends must be shocking for those who know me well enough.

“Close friends, Ushijima-san. Friends and close friends are different.” I take a long, strenuous breath. “I have many friends, but I only have a few that I can wholly trust with anything. In this school, I consider Kei and Yamaguchi to be my close friends, but Yamaguchi is Kei’s childhood friend. Meaning, he’ll always choose Kei’s side. I’m also good with Kageyama, but sometimes he can’t be bothered by anything other than volleyball.”

“What about those two managers?”

“Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi? No, I never see them as my close friends.” I swing my head side to side. “You know… I don’t really like befriending girls. Just personal preference. Maybe because I’ve experienced greatness with the likes of Goshiki.”

“Does Tsukishima Kei know about this? That you don’t like befriending girls and consider him as a close friend?”

“I’m sure he knows.” I smile, though no one can see.

“Was the fight your fault?”

“Well, in all honesty, maybe five percent of it.”

“He doesn’t appreciate you, does he?” Ushijima’s sentence doesn’t sound like a question, but more like an affirmation. “First, he didn’t want to walk you home, even when it was late at night. Now, he’s fighting you, even when he knows that you’ll be lonely. There might be many more things that he’s done to you. Why are you still being with him?”

“I’ve been asked the same question by many people, but I don’t really know the answer. I just… can’t leave him alone. I want him to be happy and successful. I want all the best for him. He’s not mean at all, Ushijima-san. He was often there when I needed him. He would wait for me to finish my manager duty so we could ride the train together, but just like I told you, he’s sometimes odd, specifically regarding his attitude toward volleyball. I can’t read his mind. I have no idea what’s in there.”

“Sounds like the textbook description of love.”

“Textbook description of love?” I frown, a bit bewildered by a new term I’ve never heard before. “What’s that?”

“I found a book in Shiratorizawa’s library that described everything about love. Your feeling toward Tsukishima Kei sounds like love. Are you in love with him?”

“In love? No, I don’t. I don’t love him romantically, but love as a friend? Sure. I love Goshiki that way too,” I elaborate clearly because I know that Ushijima can’t really grasp a story that’s too complex. “Anyway, why did you read that kind of book?”

“I was curious.”

“Curious about love?”

“Yes.”

“Hahaha, Ushijima-san, you’re so random sometimes.” I beam radiantly, somehow forgetting about Kei and all the drama surrounding him. “But you do know the difference between love and in love.”

“I do. My father told me the difference. He said that he loved my mother, but not in love with her.”

“Ah.” I gasp, totally forgetting the reason why I’m currently having a phone call with Ushijima. I won’t try to defend myself, but there’s always something about me, him, and selfishness.

If I may say, I don’t really fit in the “selfish” category. Instead, I let other people to become one. I let my parents do whatever they want with me and I rarely disobey because I don’t want to cause problem. I let Kei and most of my teammates to be selfish, to do whatever they want with themselves as long as it’s not harmful. I know that as a human being, being selfish is inevitable. At some points in this short life, everyone will act that way. That’s fine, but whenever I’m with Ushijima, I’m being too comfortable until I behave like a little kid who expects too many candies from an adult. That’s not right.

“Sorry, I forgot about your mother. Can you please tell me now? I’ll shut my mouth,” I allow Ushijima to speak as much as he wants, a chance that’s rudely taken by me.

“That’s not a problem. I like listening to you.” As expected, Ushijima soothes me with his kindness. “You want to know about why I’m not close to her. As far as I remember, ever since I was young, I’ve never had an intimate relationship with her. She’s sort of strange.”

“Strange?” Seemingly, I only need one word to be well-engrossed in the story of his past.

“Yes. My parents divorced when I was five and my father moved to America right away. You know about this.” Ushijima clears his throat for a moment. “My mother was the one who asked for a divorce. My father said that they met at his old teammate’s wedding party. A month later, she confessed. She’s a very beautiful and elegant lady, so my father gladly accepted. Three months later, she forced him to marry her.”

“What?! Three months?!” I yelp as I’m greatly astonished. If I’m not mistaken, my parents dated for three years and knew each other longer before they tied the knot. I mean, after two years is understandable. A year is a bit too fast, but okay. Three months? I’ve known Kei for four months and we fight like cat and dog for every single day. If I were to marry him after three months, we certainly would divorce after three hours. No kidding.

“Mhm. He didn’t really know her well enough besides that she’s the only daughter of a rich family who owns a big paper company in Sendai, but he was already above thirty years old, so he agreed. That’s a crucial mistake. Shortly after they got married, she began to show her true color. Whenever they had a fight, she would call him poor and nothing without her money. She’s a control freak. Checking every letter sent to my father. A neat freak too, always yelling when there’s one small breadcrumb on the table. My father coped up with her treatment because of me.”

“That’s…” I’m at a loss for words as I adjust my sitting position by resting my right leg on my left. “What was your father’s job at that time?”

“He coached Higashi High School in Sendai. It was a good school, but not as good as Shiratorizawa. The payment wasn’t much.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about that one. Isn’t it near Sendai Airport?”

“I think so.”

“Yes, please continue your story,” I tell Ushijima, but it’s not like he needs my command.

“I come from a very traditional family. My grandparents wear _yukata_ daily and my house is unlike yours. It’s very Japanese. I remember that my mother and grandmother wanted to change my left-handedness because it’s not normal in the family. Before my father left the house, his last request was to keep me this way. He said that one day, it could become my strength.”

“Ah, I’m glad he did that. I find your left-handedness to be charming, Ushijima-san.”

“You do?” His voice comes like a sweet whisper.

“Yes,” I convince that there’s nothing faulty with him. “Playing against left-handed player is harder because majority of people have built a habit to play against someone right-handed. It’s like driving for years on the right side of the road and suddenly we must be on the left. It’s confusing. I’m not saying that your left-handedness is the only thing that makes you one of the best spikers in Japan, but it does add something, you know.”

“I’m happy if you see me that way. Thank you.”

“Sure! You’re welcome!” I reply between some chuckles, feeling warm-hearted that I can make the big brown bear in ease. “Is there something more?”

“Yes, my mother is a great liar,” Ushijima sharply continues, making me frown once again. “Even until now, she keeps telling people that she divorced my father because he never cared about the family. It’s never that way. She’s the one with a bad personality, but she blamed my father for not being thoughtful enough, for not loving her as much as when they first met. According to her, after my father left to America, he never contacted me or sent any money for child’s support. He did. Mostly he contacted me through letters, but sometimes a phone call. When cellphone was invented, he always texted my mother, asking about me. He’s always there for me. Now everything is easier because we have smartphones and he’s still here. Every day, he’ll spend time to call or at least, leave me a message on LINE.”

“He’s a great father, so no wonder if you really love him. That’s cute.” I might sound like a tease, but the reality is I do consider this to be endearing. I think it’s safe to say that Ushijima cherishes his father way more than I do to my own. It’s simply pure, it can bring me tears.

“He lives far away, but he always asks about my day, my school, or all the tournaments I’m having. My mother is never like that. She spends every day by watching TV because she doesn’t have friends. Everyone hates her because of her hobby to fabricate stories.”

“Interesting. Give me an example?”

“When I was in the third year of middle school, my homeroom teacher told her that my report card was excellent, expect for the Japanese language. That somehow changed into him telling her that my Japanese teacher was stupid and not meant to work as a teacher. She senselessly came to my Japanese teacher and told him that fake story. I didn’t know anything, but I was dragged into the problem. In the end, my mother didn’t even apologize and acted innocent, like nothing ever happened.”

“Wow, she’s dangerously imaginative. She should become a novelist.” I scratch my itchy nape, probably because a mosquito just bit it. “I don’t know whether she’s doing this for fun, or she’s simply mean, or she’s depressed because she thinks she has a miserable life, or it’s just that she grew up under wrong guidance, but won’t it make her a pathological liar? Have you ever read about that?”

“Yes, I read about that. I’ve always thought of her as one.”

“But what do you feel about her? Do you hate her? That’s fine, I’m not judging.”

“I don’t hate her, but I don’t hold any strong feeling. I like my friends more than I like her. Is that weird?”

“No, that’s not weird at all. If I were you, I would feel the same too. Whether she’s your mother or not, that doesn’t change the fact that she’s not a nice person and she has ruined your family. Do keep in mind that you can’t force yourself to like someone, regardless who they are,” I give a concise answer. “You don’t expect a child to love his abusive parents, do you? Or a husband to still love his wife who murdered their own children? Whatever you feel toward her is normal. If someone says that it isn’t, then they haven’t gotten to know how cruel the real world is.”

“Yes. I feel the same way,” Ushijima responds briefly. “Thank you for listening.”

“Hahaha. This is nothing compared to what you’ve done to me, Ushijima-san. So, whenever you feel like you need someone to talk to, you can always come to me,” I remind him that I’ll always be here, just like how he’ll always be there. “And isn’t this fun? I discover new things about you. We bond more.”

“That’s true.”

“And is there more to it? Please go on.”

“No, I’m done, but I remember something I’ve been wanting to say since two days ago. Your battery should be changed. It’s broken.”

“My battery?” I make sure that I don’t hear it wrong.

“Yes. It dies when it reaches thirty percent.”

“Hang on!” I shout when I come to a realization. “Our batteries are still swapped!”

“Hm? Yes.”

“I forgot!” My voice gets more pitchy. “Sorry, I’ll give it back once I’m home!”

“No need.”

“What no need? Your’s good, mine’s broken.”

“That’s fine. I’ll buy a new one.”

I snort, just because I don’t want to be a burden to Ushijima. “Don’t do that or I’ll get mad.”

“Why?”

“It’ll probably cost above two thousand yen, so just save your money for something better. Let’s meet up and swap our battery back, okay?”

“But I don’t want you to use a broken battery.”

“I’m okay with—”

“Please?”

One word. It only takes one common word for him to officially make me melt and no, this isn’t summer’s wrongdoing either. The season is never at fault for this heart palpitation.

“Fine.” I puff my cheeks, as if Ushijima were here to pinch and burst them open with a loud “pop” noise.

“So, can I see your face now?”

“No way. You ask too much,” I playfully refuse.

“Why? Don’t you want to see me too? You said you miss me. You don’t anymore?”

God, I really want to get angry at this guy, but it appears that I can’t. I feel sinful and inhuman to do so.

“It’s too dark out here. You won’t be able to see me and… video calling drains battery. I’d rather use it to talk to you until eleven p.m.”

“Ah.”

He’s delighted. He is so delighted. I can totally tell from his tone.

“How about tomorrow afternoon during lunch break?” I suggest the best I can think of. “I’ll spend some time for you.”

“Okay,” he gracefully accepts my alternative. “But, you promise?”

I tug the corner of my lips, forming a mild smile. “Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima is a very very nice person. In the official novel, Goshiki told him something like “You’re only using your power, but I’ll also use my technique and become a better ace than you!”, to which he replied with “Is that so? Good luck”. Several times, he also gave advice to Hinata. great I love him more and more
> 
> I consider him to not be easily insulted or angry. Being as well-known as he is, some jealous spikers would definitely whisper stuff whenever he walks in a tournament. E.g. calling him not too good, play too brutal, emotionless, and whatever, but I’m 100% sure he doesn’t care about any of those. He won’t even turn his head, let alone feeling hurt or think too much.
> 
> Some of you might assume that he isn’t close to his mother because he’d rather be with his ever-loving father or that his mother isn’t too affectionate. True, but I feel that she needs to have a specific trait that makes the patient Ushijima left the house and barely comes back. Long story short, I thought of making her a pathological liar (+ her freaks) because that’s a plague.
> 
> ###### A small chit-chat that you don’t have to read because this is by far the longest end notes I’ve ever written:
> 
> I’ve been a constant “victim” of pathological liars in my family/friend circle. Based on my abundant experience (as if this is something to be proud of, I’m sad), I can give you all one very good advice: stay away from them.
> 
> No need to try to “disenchant” or change them into a better person because they’re beyond saving—which means, they will never realize their own misbehavior. If they text you bullshit, no need to reply and if you can, just block their numbers. No need to defend yourself because it’s a waste of time when you can spend it well by watching recipes on Youtube. Smart/wise people can differentiate the right and the wrong, so if your “closest people” choose to believe these pathological liars more than you, then you must reconsider your relationship with them. XD
> 
> And if you’re REALLY FED UP with how these liars create super-creative stories and fabricate the truth, give them a pat on the back and advise them to play The Sims or direct them to book publishers, the ones that accept fictions, of course. You know… so they can “play around” using the right platform (?). I said both to this one woman and she literally shut up. Not for long because the next day, she once again tried to manipulate me and people around me. I think I was busy waxing my legs at that time, so I paid no attention to her.
> 
> ###### 
> 
> And Ushijima is so handsome. I’m dead.  
>   
> [Source](https://twitter.com/zerojima/status/709241733666635776)
> 
>  _But, but, what about Tsukki?_  
>   
>  What about him? We all hate him, don’t we? >.> ~~I love him, I do not, I love him~~  
> [Source](https://twitter.com/Kuroquis/status/612625199465263104)
> 
> See you next chapter!


	30. The Fourth Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where are you going?”
> 
> “Nowhere,” I answer fluently, not projecting the sore thump on my chest.
> 
> “Where’s nowhere?” He’s still the old him who needs to know the list of my activity.
> 
> “The gym,” I lie with a grumble.
> 
> “Oh. Not going to have lunch?” he continues.
> 
> “Later.”
> 
> “Why? It’s unlike you to say no to food.”
> 
> I scrunch my nose in disgust. “Up to me.”
> 
> He then gives me this dim smile as his brows furrow in misery. “I see.”
> 
> What a bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I wasn’t actually planning to make a video call scene between Ushijima and the heroine, but since some of you expected for it to happen, so why not? I had to switch some scenes from later chapters that would be more appropriate for this one. In the end, everything worked well… I think?
> 
> Anyway, I want to specially say thank you to [Pacem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pacem) for listening to me ~~constantly~~ whining about Tsukishima Kei for a month now and for providing me some GREAT advices for this chapter until 2 AM. ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler. Seriously.  
> 2\. Last time we had [a really nice word count](http://image.prntscr.com/image/1836455912604ca29f555c26f1047c4d.png). :'(  
> 2\. I’m super sleepy when proofreading this, so beware of some mistakes. I’ll re-read again later.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

No one here has any idea how happy I am that at last, I grant myself a beauty sleep between eleven p.m. until seven thirty in the morning—which equals to a good undisturbed eight-hour of paradise. Unlike yesterday, Kiyoko only needs to whisper my name twice to make me wide awake feeling like a blooming flower in a sunny spring. I yawn as hard as I can and that one time is enough to thoroughly guide my soul from dreamland back to its shell. Nothing angers me when I must part ways with my futon, blanket, and pillow, or even when I need to hurriedly clean myself and everything else that follows. It’ll be a nice day, I can tell.

As usual, I head downstairs with Yachi and Kiyoko. I don’t see any of Karasuno’s players racing each other on the second nor first floor, so most likely they’ve gone to the cafeteria long before I finished changing my pajama. To think of it, it’s nothing sort of new. The hands of the clock won’t even hit eight a.m., but they’re all already devouring their first portion of breakfast. By the time I arrive there, some of them will already be queueing for their second cup of rice. The only different two are Kei and Yamaguchi who eat less than the rest, but I don’t wish to bump into them this early as I’m sure I won’t be able to muster a normal topic. Just, not yet.

Surprisingly to me, both of the childhood friends are nowhere to be seen inside the cramped cafeteria. No matter which side my eyes are looking at, I can’t find those two tall bodies standing next to each other. Are they still back in their room? Are they maybe stuck in the toilet? Are they okay? I don’t know why my brain unwittingly thinks as though I need them to be nearby because the truth is absolutely far from that. It’s better if I can eat my breakfast in peace without having to keep wearing a bubbly façade. I mean, isn’t it very normal for me wanting to prevent anyone from assuming that I’m in despair without them by my side?

“Oops! Hime-chan, watch where you walk…”

It’s clearly my fault for not looking straight until I bump into someone in front of me, but when I realize that it’s Kuroo’s broad chest I’m colliding against, I immediately consider this to be Gods’ unique way of reminding me that I should always be grateful for every single sunrise that’s been gifted to me so far. I know I mustn’t take this gorgeous human being for granted, but please, how can’t I? This is such a marvelous view to start the fourth day of the training camp and in all honesty, I’ll forever turn my head sideways and fall forward if it means this split second of bliss will keep occurring to my poor soul.

“Hey, you’re good?” All at once, Kuroo’s sweet voice pulls me back from daydreaming. “Your nose doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m good!” I squeal, glancing at Kiyoko and Yachi who stand to my right. I don’t mean it as a sign for them to leave, but somehow, they smile and walk away to the food counter six to seven meters behind Kuroo. Why would they do that to me? Not like I dislike the opportunity of being left alone with Nekoma’s captain, but this is mortifying. I don’t know why I’m always feeling this uneasy. I suppose people that are too attractive can be fatal to my heart rate.

“You’re sure? You haven’t been looking very cheerful lately,” Kuroo asks again, a snarky grin is formed on his the-Almighty-blessed face, but to this, I can only chuckle half-heartedly. Some people from Nekoma were watching that fight I had with Kei. I’m pretty sure before they all went to bed that night, I became one of their hot topics in the room. Same as those from Fukuroudani, Shinzen, and Ubugawa. I won’t blame them because I would do to the same if the main character weren’t me. That’s just human nature—no matter how big or small, we always like to gossip and share.

“Haven’t you heard a lot, Senpai?” I throw him a question back, gazing up at his prepossessing feline eyes. “But I’m okay. Thank you so much for your concern…”

“Really? If you say so, then I’ll believe you. At least for now.” Kuroo kindly shifts his smirk into an enchanting smile and I feel something tingling every part of my skin, right from my scalp and down to every tip of my toes. Looking away will be a better choice to retain my sanity, but for sure I know that it’s beyond impossible to do. I simply can’t.

“Kuroo-san, you’re blocking the way.”

Another angel comes directly from heaven. By that, I mean Akaashi who’s out of nowhere is standing behind Kuroo with an empty green plastic glass in his right hand. He looks like he hasn’t gotten sufficient rest, but I guess that’s untrue because he’s evidently born with a pair of sleepy eyes. Nonetheless, they’re still way more charming than anything I’ve ever seen in this short life of mine. Here’s the thing about Kuroo and Akaashi—they can exempt themselves from taking a shower for a whole month and will still look breathtaking. Kiyoko also fits very well in this category. Then of course, we have a pauper like me who’ll look messier than a dying ostrich if I don’t comb my hair twenty times a day. Life is never fair, indeed.

I too notice that Bokuto isn’t here. He isn’t trailing behind Akaashi or vice versa, like how I always encounter him since the first time we met. I tilt my upper body a bit to the left, to inspect a long table next to the food counter—the one that I sat on two days ago. There I spot the noisy Fukuroudani’s ace, being surrounded by most of the regulars in his team. Should I consider this as my third luck? First is speaking to Kuroo this early. Two, Akaashi joins the gang. Three, there’s no Bokuto to chatter more than needed, more than I care to hear. Again, I must state that I don’t hold any grudge toward him, but why should I lend my ears to hearing him when I have the option to focus my entire attention at his two friends?

“Oh, sorry.” Kuroo steps aside, giving Akaashi enough space to apparently use a blue water dispenser behind him. I was too immersed by something inappropriate inside my tenebrous mind until I didn’t even notice the aforementioned object that’s actually very noticeable. As soon as Akaashi’s done, he doesn’t instantly go back to his group, but instead, he takes a sip of his cold drink while scrutinizing me, as if I have repulsive scabs all over my face.

“What’s the mat—”

“Yesterday Tsukishima and Hinata practiced with us.” I don’t think Akaashi intends to curtly cut my words, but since it’s him, I don’t consider that to be a problem. “Or… it’s more like Hinata joined us thirty minutes after Tsukishima.”

“Oh.” I nod my head a couple of times, albeit having zero idea that Hinata spent the night with these giants. “Were they helpful? Sorry if they did something inconvenient.”

“Hahaha, why are you acting like their mother, Hime-chan?” Kuroo chimes in with a laugh that’s lovelier than a singing nightingale. Sometimes I wonder if I should stop portraying him as a flawless creation because no one’s perfect in this world, but then it will feel as if I betray my own feeling. I can lie to other people, but it’s not good to do it to myself, right?

“They’re okay.” Ignoring Kuroo’s interruption, Akaashi replies to me. It’s not long before he refills his glass as it’s almost empty from the last mouthful chug.

“Oh! Hime-chan, why don’t you play together with us tonight?” Kuroo suddenly offers, making me expand my eyes in surprise. He says “play together”, which means that he wants me to touch and spike volleyball like how I used to. Sure, I’ve done several jump serves for the past three days for Azumane’s learning purposes, but even if it’s Kuroo who asks, I don’t think I’m quite ready to officially join a team.

“Um, I’m sorry… I don’t think I can, but I appreciate the offer,” I politely refuse as I sway both of my hands up in the air between us. If he had asked me a year before, the word “no, I don’t want to play volleyball” would’ve never come out of my mouth.

“Why? Is it because the net will be a tad too high? Chibi-chan can reach it, so it shouldn’t be a problem for you. You’re quite tall as well,” Kuroo remarks the fact that the volleyball net for male is nineteen centimeters higher than female. Internationally for male it’s two meters and forty-three centimeters, while for female it’s two meters and twenty-four centimeters. Honestly, nineteen centimeters gap is nothing, unless if it’s a whole meter or above. Not forgetting to mention that I used to play with my mother’s team and it was always a piece of cake.

“No, I’ve played a lot of times with male players before and the height was never a problem. It’s just that…” I stroke my nape and softly grin. “I haven’t been in a game after my accident, so… um, I don’t know how to say it, but I’m not very comfortable playing with the injury I have…?”

“Oh right, sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Kuroo raises his tone because he understands that he has hit a nerve. His playful expression tenses in an instance. It’s still stunning, but I prefer him to display his usual cheekiness that I very much adore.

“Kuroo-san, if she doesn’t want to, then don’t force her.” That’s Akaashi’s last sentence before he turns around and walks back to his table. He might come back later, but it’s unlikely for me to still be here because my stomach has been quietly growling.

“Meh… Akaashi is sometimes too blunt, don’t you think?” Kuroo sounds like he complains about the guy a year younger than him, but I know he doesn’t mean it that way because they’re good friends who are often found standing closely in circle. Everyone here knows they are.

“Yes, but he’s very kind. Maybe he doesn’t do it on purpose, but he’s always there to save me from Bokuto-san. I feel light-hearted whenever he’s around,” I confess my real feeling toward Akaashi. Not a love one, but an admiration one. I have to make that clear.

“Aw, that’s so cute coming from—” Kuroo doesn’t finish his sentence as he’s taken by something more interesting behind me. “Uh-oh, your boyfriend is here, Hime-chan. I should get going. It’ll be troublesome if he doesn’t want to have an extra practice anymore.”

First of all, I was wrong. This is far from interesting. Second, even if Kuroo doesn’t explicitly reveals the reason why there’s a possibility of Kei not willing to have an extra practice with him and everyone else, I pretty much get it. He doesn’t want Kei to misunderstand and become dramatically jealous—we all know he will because that has happened several times and it’s not only to Kuroo. I don’t know why Kei is so childish and close-minded like that, especially when he understands that I’m not even his real girlfriend. He needs more friends, but I won’t bother myself to advise him that.

“No, please don’t mind his attitude, Senpai…” I look over my shoulder at Kei and Yamaguchi who are idling near the entrance with something in their hands. I can’t really tell what because I move my head back to Kuroo faster than my capability to process other stuff. The only thing I precisely know is that they do see me being with Kuroo and maybe until now, their eyes still remain here.

“You’re still fighting with him?” Kuroo questions a taboo I thought I would never hear from him or anyone outside my school.

“Uh, seems like it,” I mumble briefly.

“Seems like it?”

“He’s not worth it, anyway.” I snigger as I glance at Karasuno’s table and it seems like my fellow managers have found their way back with a tray full of deliciousness, leaving me minutes behind. “I’ll grab food. You’re not going to?”

“Already. I just have to eat now, but I was planning to call Kenma,” he swiftly answers.

“Oh! Sorry for halting you, Senpai…”

“No, no, no, it’s good.” Kuroo shakes his head and gives me another alluring smile. “Then, I’ll go now. Nice talking to you, Hime-chan.”

“Nice talking to you too.” And it’s nice seeing him. And it’s nice that among all the ladies here, he chose to talk to me, even when he has something more important to do. And it’ll be wonderful to know whether this small chit-chat will happen anytime soon or not.

Unfortunately, there’s no way I’ll shamelessly tell all of those cringeworthy things to him, so I move my feet forward while he goes to the opposite direction. The food counter is still as crowded as the first time I saw it just a moment ago. There are eight boys standing with a tray on their hand, hence I position myself on the end line, waiting patiently for my turn to come. If Yachi and Kiyoko were here, I would have people to talk to for the next five minutes, but I know that I have no rights to whine about. This is my own doing since I was the one who decided to spend some time with Kuroo when I could just leave with my the two lovely ladies.

I spend the first minute by listening to the things the cafeteria ladies offer while folding my hands in front of my chest. The menu today is very Japanese, which consists of miso soup, _tamagoyaki_ , grilled mackerel, and spinach salad. Truth be told, I’ve been getting too much of this type of food that I miss eating something western. There’s this small pizza café near my house and the chance for me buying something there as soon as I’m back home is quite big. Their pizza isn’t the best I’ve had, but it’s satisfying enough for the size, taste, and very reasonable price. Additional toppings will cost more, so I’m going to ask some money from my father because I’ve never gotten a yes from my mother.

“Why are you alone?”

My shoulders jerk up when I hear Yamaguchi’s gentle voice next to my right ear and before I can properly react to the abruptness, I feel something cold on my left cheek. The chill automatically takes my attention more, so I turn my head to the other side, only to find Kei with a greenish can in his hand. It takes me a lifetime to realize that he’s giving me a can of melon soda. I’ve tasted this one particular brand when I was in middle school. It left a memorable taste, so it’s sad that the vending machine in Karasuno doesn’t sell one.

And right, this is getting awkward. I have so many questions need to be answered, but I don’t want to utter them out loud because I’m very uncomfortable with this overall situation. First, what is Kei doing? Is he being possessed by a kind-hearted angel and therefore, he’s buying my favorite drink? Did Yamaguchi force him to do this? Two, why is he doing this? Does he want to apologize? If no, then let’s go back to the first question again. If yes, where’s the “sorry”? Does he really think that I’m going to sincerely forgive and forget everything he’s done over a can of soda? Is he dumb or stupid?

“We just came back from the vending machine near the second gym,” Yamaguchi explains something that I couldn’t care less about, but at least now I know why they weren’t here before.

“I see. Thanks.” I take the drink from Kei’s hand without looking the slighest into his eyes, let alone giving him a sparkling smile like how I would before this chaos we have.

“Um, then… be right back for a moment. I need to say something to Hinata,” Yamaguchi excuses himself and I immediately widen my eyes because I don’t see the point of him leaving me alone with Kei. Luckily, my intelligence works quicker and it tells me that the wisest option is to stay still. Reason number one is because it’ll be taxing, futile, and embarassing to beg Yamaguchi not to go. Two, seems like now isn’t the right time and location to protest about why I must be with Kei, unless if I wish to create another drama. Simply put, silence is golden.

Though I admit, it isn’t easy. My hands tightly squeeze the cold can in front of my pelvis and I pray so Kei won’t start any conversation, even if it’s only a “what a nice weather we have this morning”. I don’t want to speak so casually to him because then he’ll draw a one-sided conclusion that I’ve accepted his strange apology. I don’t want to shout something cruel to him either—maybe telling him to restrain himself from talking to me or even standing side by side with me like this. I might seem too uncongenial and look like I don’t want to fix anything, but I suppose I’ve made it very clear that there won’t be any more words if I haven’t gotten my sorry. And yes, it appears that the lecture I had from Yamaguchi couldn’t entirely change my approach to this lanky guy beside me.

“Oh, _tamagoyaki_ and miso?” My wish flops when Kei comments about the menu today. Is it maybe because I’ve received enough blessings when I talked to Kuroo and Akaashi? I’m not kidding, but I’d rather exchange that small encounter with Kei being mute, at least until next year, when I’ll have enough time to process everything that’s going on around here.

I chew on my lower lip after not giving back any response. I don’t even shrug or faintly hum. A moment later, three boys leave the line and I use the small opening between the others to slip into the crowd and find my way near a rack of trays. I grab one and put it down on the counter, together with the drink that—thankfully—isn’t dented from how forceful I’ve been gripping it. I don’t need to check behind to make sure that the distance between me and Kei is sufficient to prevent him from using his arm to reach mine, but even if he’s able to, why would he? He’s not mawkishly romantic like that.

Long story short, this seems to do the job just well. I manage to get a complete set of breakfast with an extra tofu in my miso soup and rush back to the table without minding Kei who must wait longer before he can get his food. Hastily, I seat myself between Yachi and Azumane who have eaten most of their mackerel. There are Nishinoya, Tanaka, and Hinata right in front of me. Most likely, Kei will sit next to Yamaguchi, who is diagonally three or four meters across me. This is perfect. I’ve saved myself from going on rampage and ruining anything.

* * *

Never have I thought that I would be this grateful for having Yachi and Kiyoko as my guardians during a summer training camp where there’s a tight schedule to follow and it only leaves roughly five minutes of erratic small breaks. For the entire morning, Yamaguchi can’t seem to take his eyes off me, in a wrong way. After a set is over, he’ll look at me on the sideline with this blank expression. After he’s done a penalty, he’ll stare at me from far while hoping down the hill. Each water break makes me feel like a minor character that will die first in a horror movie because he’ll watch my every move with a pair of dead eyes. He creeps me out too much until I don’t want to give him his drink nor towel, just in case he’ll lose himself.

In spite of my hobby of imagining unrealistic things to happen in my life, I’m not an oblivious person. I know Yamaguchi’s reason for being this absurd is because he’s trying to find a perfect moment to drag me away to an empty corner of this huge school and begin a long speech about Kei—doubtlessly about why I was so cold when I was given a drink. I don’t know what kind of nonsense his childhood friend has told him, but I know that he wants to reprimand me for not listening to all the things from yesterday. Sad to say, but I think I’m doing a pretty solid job on avoiding him—maybe it all thanks to me combining my hidden acting talent and the agility from being a volleyball athlete for years.

I know that I’m obliged to wash bottles during the lunch break while Kiyoko and Yachi are going to the laundry room, therefore I ask for their permission to leave early because I need to call my father. I say that he misses his only daughter and that he only has time to call me now because of his messy work schedule. That’s only fifty percent a lie because I do have a promise to call someone in Miyagi—by that, I mean Ushijima. The thing about my father not having a well-organized schedule is also true, that’s why sometimes he’s at home at six p.m., but the next morning he’ll be away for five days. I keep the biggest reason close to my heart—which is that I don’t want to be completely alone and give Yamaguchi an opportunity to cage me like yesterday.

It’s not surprising that I’m the first manager to enter the classroom. The air conditioner hasn’t been turned on like usual, so I do the favor for the girls before taking out my phone from my bag and leaving the room in one continuous motion. There aren’t many people around because most of them prefer to enjoy lunch before proceeding any further with their life, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe for me to be all relaxed because Yamaguchi can come crawling anytime soon. I don’t have any excuse on why I treat him like a reptilian, but who knows when he’ll creep up behind me or on the floor down there? I’m skeptical. Period.

So, I need to find a place where I can put Ushijima’s voice in loudspeaker. I think the best choice is another building that’s five minutes away from everybody else. As far as I know, there aren’t any other students here besides those who are invited to the training camp. If someone’s going to find me, they’ll be the securities and obviously, I won’t mind that since they won’t recognize Ushijima. Even if they do watch volleyball news in Japan, it’s not like they can do anything once they find out about my relationship with Shiratorizawa’s ace. They’re grown-ups, not little snitches that will mess up with someone else without thinking twice.

I stare at my phone screen as I walk out of the main building to the north of the school, still being sheltered by the hallway’s roof from the scorching sun up above. Sometimes my eyes will dart around to see any impending threat, but most of the times, they’ll be glued to the gadget I hold with both hands. Goshiki sent me some funny links of videos and articles, but I can’t open them now, so I write him back a “I’ll read them all before my afternoon nap, I love you”. Then I shift to Ushijima who has written me about his day so far—what we basically always talk about on a daily basis. He went to have a morning run with Leon, then he was treated some slices of banana bread. He took one picture of his left hand holding one slice and it’s comical to see the size difference. Every part of his body is gigantic, that’s why.

“Where are you going?”

Abruptly, I stop moving my feet as I lift my head, simultaneously with my eyebrows. There I spot Kei walking toward me and I haven’t taken a long breath to prepare myself when he stops just less than a meter away. The atmosphere between us gradually rises into something that will choke me in a matter of seconds. Quickly, my eyes fall down to the stone tiles below, but when I realize that I don’t want him to win this inner battle and make me look like a loser by default, I gain enough courage to gaze up and meet his eyes again.

“Nowhere,” I answer fluently, not projecting the sore thump on my chest.

“Where’s nowhere?” He’s still the old him who needs to know the list of my activity. Has he really forgotten what happened two days ago? If he has, how dare he?

“The gym,” I lie with a grumble. I’m sure he won’t come back there to look for me, so there’s nothing to worry about. Well, that is unless if Bokuto goads him by saying something controversial for the second time. I guarantee that won’t happen.

“Oh. Not going to have lunch?” he continues.

“Later.”

“Why? It’s unlike you to say no to food.”

I scrunch my nose in disgust. “Up to me.”

He then gives me this dim smile as his brows furrow in misery. “I see.”

What a useless being.

I grit my teeth before passing by him, providing enough space so our body won’t come in contact with each other. Why is he always making that kind of sorrowful face when he’s the one full of mistakes? What is he trying to gain? If I have to guess, then perhaps he wants attention and mercy from other people. I’ll give it that his way can work well. Those who don’t know the real story behind our fight will think of me as the one to blame because he acts like a victim of my words. I’m the villain and he’s the hero that needs to be supported. I’m so sick of his personality.

* * *

At first, I plan to enter an empty school building and sit on a stair to the third floor all by myself, but that can get savage if I see a fair-skinned woman with a super long hair floating in front of me. The worst case scenario will be that there’s a mass murderer and no one will hear me scream from the inside, but enough with the fantasy. In the end, I pick a bench near an unoccupied medium-sized sport field as my back facing a wall behind me. This position ensures that there won’t be any brightness to darken the image perceived by the other side and lucky for me, there are a lot of trees to frost the heat and make everything on my screen crystal clear. Without waiting any longer, I open the LINE chat between me and Ushijima, where the guy has been sending me some adorable stickers for the past three to four minutes.

 _Me_  
_ 1:24 PM Ushijima-san~_  
_1:24 PM_   
_1:24 PM_ _We can have a call now_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Yamagata is in my room. Is that okay with you? 1:24 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 1:25 PM Oh? Is he joining our call?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No, he’s copying my homework. He doesn’t know that we’re going to have a call 1:25 PM_  
_If you don’t want to, I’ll ask him to leave or I’ll leave 1:25 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 1:25 PM No, that’s fine if he knows_  
_ 1:25 PM He’s nice, I like him_  
_ 1:25 PM But come on… your closest friends know everything about us, so why does it matter?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_You’re right. Should I put you in loudspeaker? 1:25 PM  
_

_Me_  
_1:25 PM_   
_1:26 PM_ _Tell Yamagata-san first, so he won’t be shocked_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Okay 1:26 PM  
_

The call comes fast and right after I pick it up, my screen loads with Ushijima and Yamagata sitting next to each other against a spotless white wall. Ushijima wears a white t-shirt with short sleeves, while Yamagata has a green tank top that shows some muscles on his arms. Not as defined as Ushijima’s, but still more than the majority of male liberos I know so far. This isn’t the first time I see them being next to each other, yet every single time, it still manages to make me laugh at the fact that Yamagata is so tiny compared to Ushijima. But he’s not short at all—he’s around the same height as my mother, which is almost ten centimeters taller than me.

“Hime-chan? We can’t see you.” Yamagata waves his right hand to the camera and I realize that I haven’t turned on mine. Before I do, I first make sure that the angle isn’t too low so no one needs to witness the accumulated fat under my chin. Specifically not a fit person like Ushijima. I don’t want to humiliate myself.

“Hello,” I greet the two seniors, as soon as I can see a small part of myself on my own screen. The quality is so smooth that I want to shed a tear while worshiping Shinzen’s free Wi-Fi.

“There she is.” I notice Yamagata elbowing Ushijima’s ribs and giggling to I don’t know who because the grand ace surely doesn’t react much. As always.

“Are you two sitting on a bed?” I ask, not intending to tease anyone, but just from pure curiosity.

“Yes,” Ushijima answers on behalf of his friend. “I don’t know why they always come to my room.”

“Because you never get angry, Wakatoshi… If it’s Semi, he’s going to kill us if we leave a tissue behind,” Yamagata reveals a new information that apparently, Semi cares quite much about how clean his room is. I don’t know whether he’s a clean-freak like Ushijima’s mother, but I’d rather believe not since he’s too good to be labelled as a “freak”.

“Hm, that’s true.”

I laugh. Ushijima is so nonchalance about whatever people say to him and it’s borderline humorous. If volleyball doesn’t work, then he can become a successful comedian. He can be funny just by standing on a stage and being himself by taking everything so seriously. I’m positive that in a day, he can sell more than five thousand tickets.

“By the way, Hime-chan, why don’t you hang out with Wakatoshi before he’s going to France next month?” Yamagata jumps to another question that deeply piques my interest until I can’t help but part my lips in awe.

“France? Why?” I’m clueless.

“Eh, you don’t know?!” Yamagata yelps, as if I have no idea that Ushijima is the only son of France’s president. “For FIVB!”

“Ah!” I broaden my eyes and mouth even further. I totally forgot that Ushijima is chosen as a representative for Volleyball U19 World Championship. I don’t really follow such news and no one has ever mentioned about this matter since I read it on a magazine and coincidentally met Ushijima more than a month ago. Literally no one, not even my parents who usually bring this topic to our dining table.

“When will you go again? In detail.” Yamagata glances at Ushijima, in the middle of me becoming aware that I’ve been contacting a star for every single day. When we talk about our teachers and the tests they give that day, Ushijima seems like an ordinary high schooler who doesn’t speak much, but when I take a deep breath and realize his achievement at such a young age, I’m captivated by everything he owns.

“The opening ceremony is on August fifteenth. I’ll be going in the afternoon from Sendai to Tokyo on August twelfth, then a direct flight for twelve hours from Tokyo to Paris on the same day,” Ushijima explains attentively and I try to memorize everything. For now, I do remember, but it’s always saver if I just Google their schedule or write it down on a note.

“Oh, does Hime-chan also know about this?” Yamagata points his thumb at Ushijima. “His birthday is on August thirteenth and he’s going to spend it in the airplane. Please cheer him up.”

What is it now? There are too many new things and my brain doesn’t have enough capacity to absorb everything. So, Ushijima will go to Tokyo one day before his birthday and arrive in Paris on his birthday. Wait, what? Never mind. After this, I’m going to tell Ushijima to write me the exact time. I don’t want to be confused over something simple like this.

“I’m fine,” Ushijima assures me that he won’t be all gloomy from being far from his closest people during his birthday. I think he won’t even mind if his own father doesn’t remember his birthday. Does he even know the joy of having a birthday party? His mother doesn’t seem to be the type to do that when he was a kid and that’s pathetic. He doesn’t deserve this.

“Um, do you guys… celebrate each other’s birthday? I mean, in the dorm?” Although this isn’t a risky question, I still need to carefully ask because I’m an outsider.

“Yes, we always do that around here. You should join us sometimes, Hime-chan.” Again, Yamagata’s the one to answer, but I don’t mind because he’s very cordial. “Anyway, enough with me intervening. I’m going to do my homework.”

“Okay,” I permit Yamagata with a single word that’s copied soon by Ushijima. The former smiles gently before scooting, he can no longer be seen by me. A moment later, I hear a sound of a chair being dragged and that must be him using Ushijima’s property without saying anything. Not like Ushijima will mind because these people are brothers for life.

“Where are you? Isn’t it hot there?” It’s not even two seconds later when Ushijima starts to ask me. Having a video call is nothing like meeting for real because I don’t know where to look at. If I focus on his eyes, it doesn’t mean that we’re locking our sights. If I look at somewhere else, he’ll probably think that I’m not listening. It’s a bit weird.

“I’m somewhere far from the main building and cafeteria. It’s near a sport field, so… maybe I enter the school even more? But it’s so quiet here. I can’t see anyone. There’s not even a bird flying over.” I glance up before looking at my screen again. “There are huge trees around, so it isn’t too hot. I think I’ll go here again tomorrow if we want to call again in the afternoon. Not when it’s night. It’s spooky.”

“I see. Please take care of yourself.” Ushijima stares deeply into the camera, as if he’s really close and ready to punish me if I don’t follow his compassionate order. “And you should go to sleep soon. Maybe in half an hour. I have to cut my hair with the others.”

“Cutting hair together?” I tilt my head to my side, feeling puzzled. I understand if parents want all their little children to cut hair at the same time and place, but a bunch of muscular dudes? That’s new to my ears.

“Yes, with Yamagata, Tendou, Reon, and Semi.” Ushijima tries to enlighten me. “Semi’s father owns a big salon in Sendai, so we always cut our hair there.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool! What’s the name of the salon?” My pitch raises because how could I claim Semi to be my favorite _senpai_ when I don’t even know anything about his background?

“It’s ‘Semi’. All in capitals.”

“That’s… a very chic name now that I realize,” I praise someone that’s not even here. “Never heard of it before, but obviously because I don’t live around there. I cut my hair near my house.”

“Then next time, you should cut your hair with us because we always get discounts. The salon itself is very busy. They even have bilinguals workers and VIP rooms, where you can request for the best stylists, including Semi’s father,” Yamagata informs loudly from behind the screen. Not figuratively.

“So, that’s why,” I mutter. “Now I know why all of you have amazing hairstyles…”

“Hahaha? Really? What kind of hairstyle that you like, Hime-chan? I mean, for boys.”

“…for boys?” There’s only one face that pops in my mind. “Um, there’s this one handsome _senpai_ here. He’s just… very handsome. I don’t know what else to say, but I really like his hairstyle.”

“Eh? Who’s that lucky guy?” Yamagata exaggerates a bit, while Ushijima doesn’t do anything but look at me observantly.

“Kuroo Tetsurou. From Nekoma.”

“Kuroo Tetsurou?” Ushijima’s first sentence after being silent for a while is a repeat of Kuroo’s name. Hilarious.

“Kuroo Tet—ah! I know that guy! The one with a spiky black hair?!” Yamagata asks again. I don’t know when he’ll get enough of my story. I hope not soon because it’s very nice having him nearby, kind of the same feeling I have toward Akaashi. Maybe a bit better because Akaashi isn’t as expressive as this.

“Yes, that one. Nekoma’s captain,” I clarify.

“Ah, okay, I know. I follow his Twitter. He has several thousands of followers and has a specific style. I see, I see. I see now.” Yamagata forms his words as if he’s amused by my answer, but his tone is so fake that it scares me to some extent because everything between us has been fun until now. “Okay, Hime-chan. Go talk about something else.”

“Eh? What’s the matter? Did you know something about him? You sound weird.”

“No, there’s nothing. Go talk to Wakatoshi about something else. I’m busy with my homework.”

“You mean copying his homework?” I tease him, but there’s no retort back and it puts me to shame. Why do some people like to say something mysterious and then not wanting to explain? Do they find that to be cool? Whatever. It’s not like I’ll be given an answer, even if I beg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Can I just say that I really want to punch Kei? I always put myself in the shoes of each character I write and as the heroine of this story, I too feel so irritated at that guy. Then when I imagine Kei as myself, I kind of understand why he acts this way. Then when I’m Yamaguchi, I’m also mad at both of them. In conclusion, everyone around here is actually childish…? I’m at a loss for words. #Conflicted
> 
> 2\. [The host for FIVB U19 in 2013 was actually Mexico](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FIVB_Volleyball_Boys'_U19_World_Championship#Appearance), but I changed it to France for story purposes (you’ll know why later). I’ve never been to France before, but I often use French names for my original characters. They’re all so beautiful and meaningful.
> 
> 3\. So, do I have any French reader? Say hi please. ;'(
> 
> 4\. Semi’s family owns a salon. Isn’t Semi very kind and good-looking? We love Semi. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> 5\. When everyone is having a haircut, I SWEAR this dialogue occurs:
>
>> Ushi: I want to change my hairstyle.
>> 
>> Semi: Eh? To what?
>> 
>> Ushi: Something like Kuroo Tetsurou’s.
>> 
>> Yamagata: -holds his laughter-
>> 
>> Semi: Who’s Kuroo Tetsurou?
>> 
>> Tendou: Kuroo? Oh! That captain from Nekoma, a school in Tokyo! He has a very badass spiky hair!
>> 
>> Semi: Spiky hair?! No, Wakatoshi, that’s so not you!
>> 
>> Ushi: But [L/N] said that he’s very handsome and she likes his hair.
>> 
>> Silence.
>> 
>> Everyone except Ushi and Reon: -laughs as hard as they can, Yamagata is the loudest because he knows-
>> 
>> Ushi: Why? Will I look funny with a spiky hair? [(definitely not, Ushi. You’re gorgeous, so even if you’re bald, you’ll still take my breath away)](http://cottonfist.blog.fc2.com/img/hair01.png/)
>> 
>> Reon: Wakatoshi, that’s not the reason why they’re laughing. -pats Ushi’s shoulder-
>> 
>> ~The End~
> 
>   
> See you again soon! 


	31. A Box of Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s obvious.” Kageyama messily ruffles his straight hair until it looks a bit feral. “How could your team win that year if in the final, you, the ace, only played for the last ten minutes?”
> 
> “…eh?”
> 
> There’s a sharp unpleasant pang that strikes my heart. I bite my lower lip only for a second because I don’t want to look weird and open the door for Kageyama and Yachi to create many more questions that I know I can’t answer without sweating my forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> Last week, Pastelias, one of longest and funniest readers here sent me [a song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKIUq2mau7w) that ~~tragically~~ describes our sad beanpole’s relationship with the love of his life (at least that’s how she called them xD). I found that some of the lyrics are wrong there, so you can try to watch [this version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_9J86_4Lxo) too (although there are still a few mistakes). I’ve heard about Deemo from some of my friends who played it, but that’s not my kind of game and I never knew any of its songs. That being said, thank you so much for sharing, Pastelias. Here’s a kiss for you. (´ ε ` )♡
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> 2\. This chapter won’t specifically be about Kei or Ushi, but you all must know about it already… *points at the title*  
> 3\. Also, this is way shorter than the previous chapter(s) because I need to perfectly cut it for the next one.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Um, Ukai-san asked you to practice spiking with Kageyama-kun. What do you say?”

I’m in the middle of readjusting Azumane’s footing when Yachi comes to me from behind, slowly tugging the hem of my white t-shirt and looking like a tiny hamster that I want to feed until her cheeks are fully plumped up. I whisper a soft “wait for a moment” to the big guy beside me and turn to face the girl, raising my eyebrows a tad because her words somewhat confuse me. This morning, I rejected Kuroo’s offer to practice with him because I don’t think I’m ready to become as active as before, so I need a very solid reason to take on this specific request of helping Kageyama.

“What’s wrong with Hinata?” I ask for Kageyama’s partner. Surely I don’t forget when Akaashi told me about Hinata practicing with him and the rest last night, but I thought it was because the orange-haired was done with Kageyama and wanted more. The night is still young—the clock in the first gym displays somewhere around eight fifteen—so there must be another little mayhem that broke out between the duo until they seek for my help.

“Oh, no one told you? Yesterday Kageyama decided to practice alone with me. He said that Hinata… uh, didn’t have enough technique to help him improving his setting,” Yachi explains clearly and satisfyingly. “He’s practicing with these bottles, but he hasn’t been progressing well and Ukai-san advised him to do it with a skillful spiker. The second and third years are busy with their own thing, so he told me to call you…”

This may sound too conceited for someone like me to say, but it seems like everyone in this training camp wants me to play in a regular team consists of six to seven real players. Perhaps it’s my fault for showing that I’m still capable of doing some outstanding things on the first night of this training camp. Perhaps I can also blame Tendou for forcing me to do that one jump serve and Semi for giving me his shoulder support. Perhaps I can go back even further by putting everything on my mother’s shoulders because she was the one who kept dragging me to Shiratorizawa. The list goes on, but I’m not planning to go that way and be submerged in regret.

“Hm… If it’s only spiking and if it’s with Kageyama, then it’s fine,” I half-reluctantly accept as I scratch the right side of my neck. Yachi looks so thrilled at my decision and Azumane doesn’t seem to mind me not being thoroughly available for today, proven by how he nods his head with a gentle smile. There’s nothing essential to teach him like when we just started weeks ago, so I’m sure he’ll be fine. Time will take care of all the tiny cracks.

“We’re at the second gym. Let’s go,” Yachi informs me and just like that, the two of us simultaneously leave the biggest gym through the main door. We pass some players from other schools who I assume are back from the toilet or somewhere nearby because from what I know, there are only a handful of people who will continue practicing after having a supper as they’d rather go for a shower then sleep.

Different than the first gym that’s far in the wilderness, the second gym is located directly beside the third one and there are some academic buildings closely surrounding them. That’s why it’s not startling me at all when I perceive the mixed sound of people shouting, balls bouncing, and shoes squeaking on the wooden floor—all coming from the third gym. Bokuto’s voice always resembles a thunder, then sometimes Kuroo can be loud too, but there’s another high-pitched voice that I can’t quite classify from the distance. It’s not Hinata who has his own youthful timbre, let alone Akaashi or Kei who tends to speak in one flat key. It’s someone else who’s with them, maybe a player from Fukuroudani or Nekoma. I must walk more if I want to peek inside, but I don’t see a benefit of doing that.

In total, it doesn’t take much time for me and Yachi to enter the second gym. Set aside all the balls scattered on the floor and five empty mineral water bottles placed in a long line below the single net inside this building, there’s only a sight of Kageyama drinking from his orange bottle while standing on the sideline with a volleyball wrapped in his waist. There’s no Ukai, as known as the guy who summons me to be here. I’m ninety-five percent positive that he just left under a minute ago to join all the adults in a restaurant near this school. This always happens for the past three nights and during the away game two weeks ago, so there’s only a small probability that he’s gone for another purpose.

“Where’s Ukai-san?” Yachi is the first one to ask as the two of us continue moving our feet and stop when we’re less than a meter away from Kageyama.

“Dragged by Takeda-sensei,” Kageyama swiftly answers—affirming that my speculation is correct—before he stares deep into my eyes. “Are you sure with helping me? Will your shoulder be okay?”

I can’t help but grin because I’m flattered by his thoughtful questions. “Yes, as long as I don’t move too much. I know when to stop.”

Kageyama gives me an uncertain look, but it’s not long before he drops his bottle on the ground, transfers the ball in his hands to Yachi, gathers all the plastic bottles below the net and put them randomly on the sideline near us, and lastly, walk to the rightmost side of the net, just beside a blue pole. I don’t need an instruction to position myself right on the middle of the court, so I can get ready to jump and spike from any direction without having to run too far. This court seems like the widest one I’ve ever been in, but I know that it’s a mirage created by the emptiness around. There are only three people here including myself, not seventy to eighty kinds of noises like this usual.

“Kage, I’m not as fast as Hinata,” I remind Kageyama that I’m a snail when compared to his real partner and that’s something game-changing in volleyball. Quite the same as height.

“Why are you telling me that? Of course I know how you play, but what I need now isn’t speed. I need an expert who can really tell me what needs to be fixed,” Kageyama emphasizes the word “really” as he frowns, presumably because he dislikes it that I point out something very obvious for his genius mind.

“Hahaha, of course you do!” I put my right hand on my hip. “So… you’re trying to make a toss that falls? What I understand is that the ball will fall when my hand’s about to hit it, instead of it going further?”

“Yes.” Kageyama sounds determined and his eyes convey an unbelievable trust in my ability. I’ve said this too many times to so many people, but I always find pleasure in being dependable. If people say that an apple a day keeps the doctor away, I’ll say that a reliance a day keeps my curse away. As cheesy as it sounds, I think it rhymes pretty well.

“Hm… Okay, let’s try,” I respond. I might give a vibe like I’m taking this matter seriously, but in all honesty, I have no idea what I’m about to do. I believe many spikers experience the exact same thing as the one I currently have, where we’ll just do our role by feeling because we’re getting used to it for every single day. It’s a habit like breathing or blinking, so there’s no need to process every step of the way.

“Okay.” Kageyama glances at Yachi and nods his head as a signal for the girl to throw the ball in her hands up into the air. She’s getting way better at this than when she just became a manager, shown by how the trajectory and height are incredibly excellent for Kageyama to thrust the ball onward without losing his exceptional coordination and balance.

Now it’s my turn to finish everything. I notice that the ball goes too far to be on the right side of the court, so I run steadily to my northwest while still keeping my eyes stuck to all the movements above. Once I’m sure of the exact location of where it’s going to fall, I jump and swing my right hand to smash the ball to the other side of the net. It curves to the right and crazily spins until I’m sure that Nishinoya will have to fail at least five times before he can flawlessly receive my attack. And of course, it’s in. One point for my team.

“That’s very nice.”

“Wow, so cool! Nice kill!”

As soon as my feet land safely on the floor, I receive Kageyama’s praise, followed by Yachi shouting somewhat the same thing while clapping her hands in admiration. Normally, I would look over my shoulder and send them a sincere “thank you”, but this time, I choose to stare deeply at my right palm. I squeeze it once into a ball, then I stretch it open again. Then I do the same motion twice before finally clenching it tightly. This feels extraordinary. It’s nothing like doing one or two unchallenging jump serves with Azumane and what’s most important is that it brings me back to the good old memories when I was the most remarkable star among the brightest ones. The feeling is like no other. My heart is pounding.

“What’s wrong? Your shoulder hurts?” Soon after, Kageyama asks and I can totally understand the uneasiness clouding his tone. He may be difficult to approach or talk to when the topic isn’t about volleyball, but my injury is one of the exceptions. Not only to him, but to so many kind souls around here.

“No, Kage. There’s nothing to worry about…” I shake my head as I gaze at the setter who’s just standing still looking puzzled. “But do you realize that I haven’t spiked that way for ten months?”

“I do.”

The euphoria inside my chest is at fault for making me curl my lips into a sublime smile. “You know, I’m glad that you got to be the one to set a ball to me after a while. This is also the first time we’ve ever played together.”

Kageyama doesn’t even try to prevent himself from dilating his eyes. Who knows whether he takes my little speech as an exaggeration or a sweet reminiscence, but I like the first option more because I know who he is. He can be one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, then the next day, he’ll be one of the weirdest. He rarely smiles or looks joyful for being alive. He’s easily depressed over volleyball and he shrieks a lot because of the same thing—in which most of us are wise enough to consider that as an adolescent act. Simply put, he has many quirks just like everybody else, but I know that happiness is the only thing he feels when I tell him that I’m grateful for us partnering up like this.

“Um…” Yachi who’s been quiet for some time finally raises her voice, breaking the short silence between all of us. “Have you known each other since middle school…?”

“Oh, yes,” I immediately answer for both Kageyama and myself. “The first time we talked to each other was… The All-Japan Tournament when we were in the second year, wasn’t it, Kage?”

“Yes. I remember.” The answer I get is very quick.

“It was hilarious and random, actually. I was buying milk from a vending machine with Asuka, my setter at that time. The one in front of the cafeteria in Sendai Gymnasium, to be exact. So… there was only one box of milk left, which was the one that I bought. Then Kageyama came, apparently looking for the exact same drink. He was like ‘uh, there’s no milk left?’. So cute.” I use my left hand to point at Kageyama, slightly giggling because the memory is still too fresh to be forgotten that easily. “We had never talked before. Ever. But I knew his name, so I told him ‘hey, aren’t you Kageyama from Kitaichi? Here, you can have the milk’. He took it, gave me some coins, said thank you while bowing politely, and ran away somewhere. Double cute.”

“That’s indeed super cute!” Yachi exclaims with a sparky grin framing her face.

“And you know, he wasn’t very tall back then. I was around one hundred fifty-five and Kageyama was a bit taller, maybe around one hundred sixty?” I glance at the unamused black-haired guy before going back again to Yachi. “And when he ran, he was holding the milk with both hands. Near his chest. It’s so precious. I wanted to tie him and bring him home to play dress-up together.”

“Why do you remember that part? And even if you do, you don’t have to mention it…” Kageyama grumbles about my excessive recollection of the past, but that’s only according to him, not me nor Yachi. Meaning, I don’t see the reason not to continue.

“Hahaha, did you choose to attend Karasuno because he’s here too?” Yachi proceeds to her next question.

“Sadly, that one is incorrect. I’m here because it’s near my house, Kageyama’s here because he heard that Ukai-san’s grandfather would be back as a coach.” I rapidly wave my right hand mid-air. “We did talk again after that one time. I always said hi whenever we bumped into each other in a tournament, but we never really hung out outside volleyball. The first time we exchanged our LINE was when he visited me in the hospital. Literally a year later.”

“Oh, he visited you?” The volume of Yachi’s voice decreases, probably because our fun topic unanticipatedly changes into the tragedy I once had. She’s such a lovely person who doesn’t want to unnecessarily hurt anyone, unlike many that I know.

“Yes, he did. I was in the hospital for two months and he visited me… five or six times,” I tell, not remembering very well because there were a lot of faces who came to see me on a daily basis.

“People brought you flowers when you were in ICU. We got scolded and the flowers got thrown away because of the unwanted germs. At least that’s what the doctors and nurses said…” Kageyama adds something I’ve heard before and I must snigger because all of a sudden, he turns gloomy.

“Don’t be sad now. What happened, happened. That’s why next time bring me a diamond or something.” My first two sentences are as mature as they can get, but the last one is purely humor. “Eh, not that I wish to have an accident ever again.”

“Who wants you to have that?” Kageyama mutters before lowering his eyes to his pair of black sport shoes. “But yes, this does remind me of the past.”

“Right?” I’m delighted that at last, Kageyama yields in and goes along with my story.

“Yes, especially your legendary eleven jump serves. How could anyone forget about that?”

“W-what?! E-eleven jump serves?!” I haven’t even gotten the chance to say a word when Yachi squeaks in disbelief, almost choking herself to death.

“Yes. That happened during her second year, in the semi-final of the All-Japan Tournament. She could’ve scored more, but the match was over. Those eleven were consecutive.”

“Consecutive?! Isn’t that almost impossible?!”

I’m not as chatter as before because all I do is put on a smile. I know anyone would react the same as Yachi and it’s not only when it comes to me. If I heard someone uninterruptedly did eleven jump serves in a semi-final of a national-level tournament when they weren’t even fourteen, I’d be extremely shocked. I wouldn’t even believe it the slightest without seeing any prove. Why? Because just like Yachi said, it’s something that will only happen once in a blue moon. I don’t think Ushijima or any other Japan’s top spiker can execute that when they’re in a semi-final. Perhaps I was also a bit lucky, but I’m not lying when I say that the opposing team was quite powerful and had many tall third-year players.

“Yes. You should’ve won that year. I heard people name your team as the favorite to win.” Kageyama no longer speaks to Yachi as he goes back to using “you”, instead of “she”.

“Oh, I read on the internet that you won the All-Japan Tournament only in your third year.” I don’t know whether Yachi realizes that she just disclosures the fact that at one point, she did surf the internet to search about me. Well, it’s not like I mind because I don’t have any magic that will grant me an access to manipulate the whole internet. I’m not married to the people who own Google either.

“That’s obvious.” Kageyama messily ruffles his straight hair until it looks a bit feral. “How could your team win that year if in the final, you, the ace, only played for the last ten minutes?”

“…eh?”

There’s a sharp unpleasant pang that strikes my heart. I bite my lower lip only for a second because I don’t want to look weird and open the door for Kageyama and Yachi to create many more questions that I know I can’t answer without sweating my forehead. Unfortunately, the strong feeling I have at the moment is too inexorable to go away any time soon. Who’s to blame? It’s entirely my fault for keep talking about my past. I should’ve controlled myself from mentioning about what I’ve done before high school because they will always come with something more. I should’ve understood the rule of cause and effect more than this. Better yet, I should’ve zipped my mouth.

“You’ve never told me the reason.” Kageyama keeps on going. “Everyone thought you injured your legs because you sat right beside your coach then entire time, but then you stood up and played.”

“Stop it, Kage. Why are we talking about this? I haven’t even given any constructive advices about your toss.” I demand him to end this particular topic—or it’s more like an ultimatum with a death penalty. Thankfully, he isn’t forceful and nosy like my parents who tend to push me to the edge until they get what they want. Yachi is out of question because there’s a possibility that she won’t even hurt a bothersome fly.

“Fine.” Kageyama rocks his head down once, permitting me to continue.

“Okay, so… Try to put less power in your fingertips. It’s going to take some time because you need to make sure that it’s not too much.”

“Less power…” Kageyama scrutinizes my face—maybe attempting to find the logic and solution behind my words—and as soon as he’s done with it, he glances at Yachi. “Yachi-san, one more time.”

* * *

It’s widely known that Kageyama is a fast-learner when it comes to volleyball. I’ve been playing with so many people from all kinds of ages and backgrounds, but most of them are merely hard-workers. Whenever they’re told to change their technique, they need to be reminded for fifty more times before the words will be well-absorbed and applied. Kageyama is nowhere near that. I only need to direct his play once and he casually soars like he’s been doing it for the past ten years. I never say that being a hard-worker isn’t enough, but Kageyama is a prodigy who’s also hungry to become better. That’s a death blow for everyone because he’s always a level better than them. It’s like he’s born to become a professional player to represent Japan in the future. It won’t be surprising if he’ll become the youngest regular in the team.

“You’re amazing,” I praise Kageyama after spiking his last set-up. For an hour, I’ve scored more than thirty, including all the small breaks of discussing about his accuracy. I still can’t understand the fact of how he manages to refine his toss into the one he wants only in a matter of seconds. If that’s not a gift, then I don’t know what is.

“Thanks to you.”

“I’m only adding ten percent to your success rate. You’re already amazing by yourself. I don’t accept any humbleness,” I ensure him that my words aren’t pure courtesy. I do mean every single of it.

“Yes, thank you,” Kageyama mutters faintly before looking at Yachi who’s standing roughly five meters behind me. “Thank you too, Yachi-san. I hope tomorrow you can help me again.”

“Sure, I will! I’m glad to be useful!” Yachi enthusiastically agrees. I’ve never asked this to her, but I think she has the same type of mind as me—we feel the best when someone appreciates our existence. Many people must have it too as the list of what makes them happy, but for us, it’s number one. It’s more than eating delicious food or getting an expensive bike as a birthday present.

“And now we have to clean up…” I look around the gym and there’s a pool of chaos since we used all the balls from two carts and we didn’t pick back any of them because we wanted to be efficient. Honestly, this should take no time at all since we don’t need to pull down the net, as it will be used again tomorrow.

“Um, I’m thirsty, so I’ll take my bottle from the first gym. Is that okay?” Yachi requests for a permission she doesn’t need, but her words remind me of my own bottle and the dry throat I have.

“Yachi, can you take mine as well? It’s on one of the benches. I put it above my towel, so can you please take it too?”

“Ah, sure!” Yachi nods her head before turning around and leaving through the gym’s door that hasn’t been closed since this morning. I heard from the teachers and coaches that all the buildings will be locked at eleven p.m., to make sure that no student will secretively practice by themselves or mess around. We’re high schoolers, so things can happen if the older guardians aren’t vigilant enough.

“It’s been a while since I sweated this much.” I flap the collar of my t-shirt, hoping to let a cool breeze in. It isn’t as hot as when it’s daylight, but I’ve been jumping non-stop. I wonder how many calories I’ve burned because I’m starving too.

“It’s not like this is your first time scoring about thirty in an hour.” With each hand, Kageyama grabs his bottle and towel from the sideline. “I always felt bad for those weak teams you destroyed.”

I snort jokingly. “Kage, you make me sound like Ursula…”

“Ursula?” Kageyama’s eyebrows furrow before being covered by the towel in his right hand.

“Yes. Ursula, the octopus-like villain from _The Little Mermaid_.”

“Oh, the red-haired mermaid? I don’t like Disney, although everyone has been talking about _Frozen_. I only watched _How to Train Your Dragon_.”

“ _How to Train Your Dragon_ isn’t from Disney, but Dreamworks!” I yell with a subdued giggle, feeling like this conversation has happened somewhere before. “I love that movie too. The sequel will come out next year.”

“Yes, that’s a good—oh, seems like the guys from the third gym are done.”

Abruptly, I look over my shoulder to this gym’s main door and when I see no one there, I face Kageyama again. “Who did you see?”

“Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san.”

I grit my teeth, projecting somewhat a displeasure expression. “I hope that glasses guy won’t come here.”

“Hmm… So, you’ve really done it this time.” Kageyama clings his towel onto his left shoulder and shifts to drinking his bottle that’s almost empty because he tilts it pretty high to let the water down. His eyes aren’t looking at me, but the empty wall in front of him.

“What have I done?” I raise one of my eyebrows.

“Breaking up with Tsukishima.”

“Pfft. There’s no break up because I was never dating him,” I explain everything in one concise sentence, but as expected, what I get is Kageyama’s muddled face. Among everyone in the team, he’s the only one who still thinks that I’ve been dating Kei for almost three months or so. I did correct his speculation several times before, but he didn’t seem to ever get it. In the end, I got tired of it, so I just went along with everything.

“What are you talking about?” Kageyama speaks very softly before chugging back his bottle, while I can only smile because I realize that it’s stupid to waste time for trying to make him understand. “But are you planning to take him back again?”

“No.” I let him assume what he wants to assume. Easier and faster this way.

“That’s the best decision because we all know that you’re going to fight him again. It’s like you’re dating him only to eventually have a nasty break up.” Kageyama takes a deep breath before continuing, his eyes are still away from mine. “I don’t know how many times you’ve fought each other, but you can’t keep patching something that’s been ripped too many times. If you force this strenuous relationship until marriage, there’s a high probability that the two of you will cheat on each other. Won’t you feel bad for your children?”

This time, I don’t instantly retort like before. There’s something thorny in Kageyama’s lecture, but what hits me more is the fact that it’s not him to blabber about personal stuff like this. I know one of the major factors for him being this way is because he cares about me—and he hates Kei. He wasn’t there when Kei and I shouted at each other, but I believe he’s heard stories from some other people and he won’t enjoy it when someone hurts me, no matter who they are. But still, this is strange and obscure.

“Kage, even if my marriage is on the brink of crumbling apart, I’m not going to cheat.” After a brief soundlessness, I counter. “And even with that terrible personality he has, Kei will never ever cheat on his own wife. I know he’s not that kind of person.”

“That’s what everybody says at the beginning, but they all still—”

“Not all, Kage. Only some.” The intensity of my voice increases as Kageyama’s eyes are finally back on me. “Then, let me ask you. Will you cheat on your wife, even when you two are filling for divorce?”

“I won’t.”

I huff. “Exactly. Not everyone. Not you, not me, not Kei, not Yachi. Hopefully, none of the people we know.”

Kageyama widens his eyes, making me sure that my words are permanently tattooed on his brain. I have no idea how others think of him when he’s outside the court, but he’s in fact a very innocent kid. He drinks milk every day, he’s always excited when volleyball is mentioned, he doesn’t know that the past form of sleep isn’t _sleeped_ , and he genuinely apologizes when he knows his mistake. Maybe he read somewhere about Japan’s high divorce rate and now he’s being afraid of the word “marriage”. He needs someone to guide him through this life. Someone who’s familiar with his favorite sport too. Not me, of course. He already sees me as taken.

“Kageyama!”

My shoulders stiffen when I hear Hinata’s clear voice. Slowly but surely, I rotate my body ninety degree to the right and this is the first time I want to mercilessly murder Yachi because she—for whatever reason that I gladly won’t ever accept—brings both Hinata and Kei with her. I understand if it’s only Hinata, but Kei too? Doesn’t Yachi understand very well that I don’t want to be near Kei? Now I’m planning to run away while there’s still time, but on the other hand, I don’t want to become the chicken in this situation. Should I quiver and act as if I’m being possessed by evil spirit? That’s idiot. God, I don’t know what to do.

“What?” Kageyama comments on Hinata calling him out loud.

“Come with me somewhere. I want to show you something.”

I gulp, wishing for Kageyama to refuse.

“Hm? Okay.”

No way.

I part my lips, intending to stop Kageyama from walking anywhere, but I repress myself because again, I don’t want to be the odd one here. Even my feet know better than my heart since they don’t want to be moved, not even a millimeter. At the same time, Kei steps in, coming closer to where I am. I swear I want to leap backward, but my body, brain, and dignity choose to betray me. I hate myself for being this weak and kindhearted. Where’s the voice I usually have? Why is it hiding now?

“Ah, I have to go with them too.” Yachi gazes at me while pointing at Hinata who stands on her right. “I’ll come back later. Sorry that you have to clean up alone with Tsukishima-kun.”

“Wait, Yachi—” My plea doesn’t reach the blonde because she quickly runs away, following Hinata with Kageyama leisurely trailing behind her.

The next thing I do is pray to God in silence. Please make an earthquake or tsunami, but not for the entire school or Japan. Only for this gym, but please allow me to get out into a safe haven first. I don’t want Kei to get injured badly because Karasuno needs him for Spring High, so just make a beam fall on his head. It’ll be good if he has an amnesia, a total memory loss. That way, everyone can reset him into a tolerable human being. I can teach him how to behave kindly and normally, while my father can coach him into becoming a more passionate middle blocker.

If only life was that easy.

I clench both of my fists as I begin cursing Hinata and Yachi in my mind. They plan this out, don’t they? Maybe Kei’s also in it but I don’t care about his part. Right here, right now, I’m angry at those two shorties. And if previously I stated that it seems like everyone in this training camp wants me to play volleyball again, now let me announce that it seems like everyone in the whole world wants me to get back together with Kei—besides Kageyama. I’d be happier if they could bring my parents into this well-executed scenario and ruin my already pathetic life even more.

“Hey, let’s clean up.”

My breath gets caught in my throat. This is going to be very awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s going to happen between Kei and the heroine? ♥
> 
> Don’t wanna answer, so let’s just talk about something else, such as the absolute rule of befriending me: if you find something scary, _don’t_ show it to me, but if I find something weird, you _have to_ know about it too!
> 
> Now [watch this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a36ur-iC9Fc), [this continuation (?)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RP0jBSSw1tw), and [this one ~~“he’s actually very handsome wtf”~~](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivPy2fenG4g). I’ve found these some time ago, but I forgot to immediately share. If you’ve watched them before, then congratulations. If you haven’t, then you’re welcome. XD


	32. Outlook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes, just leave. You don’t give me any benefit by being here.” I shift my gaze sideways, feeling a bit lightheaded from the moronic words I don’t even mean. “And… don’t you dare to come near me ever again.”
> 
> “As you wish, Princess.”
> 
> I narrow my eyes at the sight of Kei turning around and walking away with an emotionless face that I can barely see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, there! I don’t know what to write here, but I haven’t slept for 20 hours and I hope Kei isn’t too OOC in this chapter. ~~I’m a bit afraid, to be honest…~~
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.

* * *

One by one, I grab the balls from the gym’s ground and toss them into a black cart that’s been dragged far from the other side of the net, where I just spent an hour with Kageyama and Yachi, the girl who betrayed me. I’m sure it hasn’t been five minutes since I was left alone with Kei, but it truly feels like five years have painfully passed. Of course, the summer heat doesn’t ease the strained atmosphere around us and the dryness inside my throat only adds misery to my sanity—yes, Yachi did come with Kei, but without my water bottle and towel. Did she even visit the first gym? Did she coincidentally meet Kei and Hinata? I get dizzy just by thinking about anything beyond finishing my duty here, so I can go back to my room as soon as possible.

It’s not like I’m anticipating any follow-ups, but Kei hasn’t said any word besides his last “hey, let’s clean up”. For all the time, I keep lowering my head and turning my back on him, which means that I have zero clue on whether he takes a very long bothersome look at me or opens his mouth only to close it again like a gasping fish. Perhaps the former is the correct one because in some way, I can feel something chilly piercing my nape, as if the guy is breathing just a meter behind me. That’s very disturbing to even imagine, but since his very own purpose to exist is already questionable, I’m pretty much well-prepared to kick his crotch if he does something disgraceful to me.

“Oi.”

My heart almost jumps out of its place when Kei gently calls me. I glance at the cart to my right and start to inwardly count the balls I’ve gathered so far. A carrier this size can fit around twenty-five to thirty balls and mine only contains less than fifteen. Good job on being a pitiable slowpoke, me. There’s literally no logical and mature way to save myself from having a private conversation with Kei because I can’t flee from here without looking phony and awkward. I wish he would just kindly apologize and we could get back to become best friends forever like four days ago. Sadly, that won’t ever happen, will it? I don’t even know his real reason of being here, other than to become a mute pest.

“Oi,” Kei repeats the same syllable again. “Bring your cart here. There are more balls in this area.”

What kind of request is that? So what if there are more balls to pick near him? Both of us can plainly see that there are still four lying unattended around my feet, which means that it’s not my time yet to move to his side. And isn’t this just his uncreative way to lure me closer to him? This morning it’s with a drink, now it’s with cleaning up this gym with me. If one day he has a huge fight with his boss, instead of saying the word “sorry”, he’ll offer them a box of chocolates. Perhaps they’ll buy that second-rated apology and forgive him altogether, but that’s not the way I was rasied.

“Oi.”

“First of all, my name isn’t ‘Oi’.” I raise my voice as I turn around to face the blond who’s holding a ball with both hands, dents are embossed all over my forehead. “Secondly, why would a commoner like you talk so casually to a royalty like me? Not to be weird, but don’t you find yourself to be incredibly disrespectful? There’s a basic manner on how to talk to a princess, you know.”

Kei’s sour expression is enough to prove that he’s not happy with my rant and I understand why. I may be angry for days, I may not know which route is the best to put things right, but I’m not entirely lost and dumb. I’m aware that I purposely bring back all the hurtful sentences he told me because there’s a probability of him forgetting what he’s done. I intentionally force him to remember his mistake. I want him to acknowledge that our relationship weighs more than a can of soda and fifteen minutes of gathering volleyballs back to their carts. I only need one word that’s as valuable as a “thank you”.

“Aw, come on… don’t put on that kind of face. It’s so fake and disgusting.” I stoop down to take care of the last four balls around me before pulling the cart with my right hand and stopping when I’m roughly two meters away from Kei. “Here’s the cart. Go clean the rest for me because I’m exhausted. This is an order and the last time I checked, someone like you doesn’t have the rights to disobey me, am I right?”

It hurts more than I expected when Kei doesn’t even try to defy me with his classic mockeries. The cart behind him is almost full, so he steps forward to get mine and moves back to the area where it’s still somewhat crowded. I’m a right-handed player who tends to spike from the left side of the court, resulting the balls to end up on the right side—or left side if it’s from the opponents’ point of view. This is the only reason why there are many more balls around where Kei and I stand now, not where I was before. All I can do for the next sixty seconds is watch Kei silently doing his job and my heart heavily thumps.

“Tsuki—” I stop moving my lips as Kei locks his beautiful eyes with mine. My jaw quivers ever so slightly when I think about how I’m supposed to call him. Will it be Tsukishima or Kei? Will I ruin our relationship even more if I choose to call him with his surname? What about the same ‘Oi’ as the one he used previously? But won’t it make me a hypocrite? Or will it really matter since I’m a princess and it’s a common knowledge that a princess can do whatever she wants?

“What is it?” he demands my halted words. I might exaggerate because of our current crooked situation, but his voice doesn’t sound as composed as before. It feels as if he’s going to fall apart if I bruise him more than he can handle.  

“Why…” I form my words very carefully. “…are you here?”

There’s a long pause before Kei makes a sound, “Why did you ask that? It’s not like we’ve never been alone like this before.”

“And why are you here?” I ask the exact same question, but with less hesitancy. Kei can be the most obnoxious numbskull ever, but his smart side does know that he hasn’t provided me a satisfying explanation.

“Oh?” He lifts his eyebrows and only for a short moment, I thought he was going to give me his signature smirk. “Do you want me to leave? I’ll do it if that’s the princess’ wish.”

I clench my fists and try the best I can to suppress my overflowing emotion. Why did Kei react that way? If it’s Goshiki, he would sacrifice everything to win my heart at that instant. If it’s Ushijima, he would keep apologizing until there’s a smile on my face. If it’s Yamaguchi, he would sort the problem out by talking and he wouldn’t want to stretch out the drama for days. I have so many questions full of dissatisfaction, but then I realize that it’s my fault for expecting too much for someone who doesn’t love me enough to respect me. Even more than that, he’s basically worthless and ruthless because he can’t think about anyone else but himself. I should’ve understood that.

“Yes, just leave. You don’t give me any benefit by being here.” I shift my gaze sideways, feeling a bit lightheaded from the moronic words I don’t even mean. “And… don’t you dare to come near me ever again.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

I narrow my eyes at the sight of Kei turning around and walking away with an emotionless face that I can barely see. I thought the time when he reopened my wound by screaming about my past would be the most distressing feeling I could have during this training camp, but it isn’t. I thought the night when Yachi came out of the classroom to witness me cry would be the only time I shed a tear in this month, but it appears to be untrue. I try to control my breath, struggling to muffle the soft, yet harrowing sound that comes out of my throat. Slowly, I use my left hand to cover my mouth and the other one to wipe the unwanted wetness from my cheeks.

Once more, I ask myself the questions that I know will give me nothing but despair. Why’s Kei—someone who I consider to be my partner—always doing the things I don’t want him to do? Why won’t he stay and be kinder to me? My words were coherent. I told him to leave and never come to me ever again, not even for a small chit-chat like making sure about the pages of our history homework are correct or sharing a new funny cat video we find on Facebook. He heard it right and he doesn’t fight. Instead of caressing the back of my hands and whispering a sweet solace to soothe me, he decides that it’s fine not to have me in his life.

“…are you… really going to leave…?” The shakiness in my voice embarrasses me, but what else must I say so we won’t foolishly end up this way? And I’ve lost, haven’t I? I have, perhaps ever since I replied to his conversation, where I could simply ignore him and leave. I’m weak and I want him, that’s why I’m still here, sobbing and letting him have his way again.

“No, I was planning to buy you a drink so you could calm down!” Much to my surprise, Kei looks back at me and squeaks. Through the blurred vision clouding my eyes, I’m still able to tell that his face is full of immense worry as he takes a long step to come closer to me.

“Liar! You’re saying that just because I’m crying!” Before he gets to bound me, I stretch out both of my hands to shove him away—it begins from his chest and quickly crawls up to his chin. “If I didn’t, you would continue walking and never look back! You’re always leaving me!”

“What ‘always’? When did I ever leave?” Kei uses an enormous effort to haul down both of my hands, but I’m going strong. Sometimes my movement turns into scratching the air, sometimes it turns into hitting his neck. For sure none is any different from what elementary schoolers will do during a silly quarrel with their friend. I’m pathetic, but I don’t know what else to do.

“See?! You’re the one who needs a mirror! You always left me—you didn’t go home with me for the past two weeks and you didn’t mind if something happened to me in the middle of the night! You were so nice when we just met, but now you treat me like a trash! It’s so easy for you to criticize other people, but when it’s yourself, you refuse to see! Stubborn! Childish! Selfish! You only get a big body, but your mental is lower than a fetus! Your intellect is the same as rats!”

“Don’t you know that rats are one of the most intelligent animals?” Kei grabs my right wrist that almost strikes his nose, his other hand is still keeping my left arm down from doing something savage. “Stop it. You’re going to hurt your shoulder.”

“Shut up! Not like you care about a failure who’s no longer relevant in volleyball world like me!” I swear I’m so thirsty from all the shouting, but I can’t seem to stop. The nasal sound I have is quite effective on making me look more miserable with each passing second.

“Stop—” Kei pleads is left unfinished as one of my fingers accidentally scrape his right cheek when I try to release myself from his never-ending grip. God knows I don’t mean to do that because my nails aren’t that sharp and more than five millimeters, but his unblemished skin is now marred by a long red line. It doesn’t bleed, but tomorrow everyone can definitely see the mark.

I part my lips, wanting to apologize out of habit whenever I’ve done something intolerable to other people, but then I realize that it’s a wrong thing to do to Kei who hasn’t given me his part. He won’t die because of a small scratch on his cheek. It does look quite deep and bright, but it’s not life threatening. Another thing that I notice is that my tears aren’t streaming like before. So, is it safe to assume that I’m too much in shock for injuring him until I forget about my own ache? While thinking about all the strange possibilities, I travel my eyes sideways, right to the empty white wall behind Kei. The one with no visible dirt on it.

“Why didn’t you cut your nails?” This time, I allow Kei to flatten my fingers and align them with my neck. “Are you stupid? You were spiking so many balls. What if you hurt yourself?”

“So what? If I hurt myself, it’s me who will feel it… Why would it concern you…? It’s not like you ever think about my health…” I sniffle a couple of times, trying to remove whatever is blocking my nose. “And I know that you’re only being kind for this one time… Tomorrow you’ll cause problem and be mean again…”

“Stop rambling senseless stuff like that and save your tears for something more important. It’s getting annoying.” Kei pulls back his dominant hand, only to use it too swipe away the hair on my temples. He’s treating me so delicately that it scares me a bit, but on the other hand, I can’t seem to repel him any longer. I’m afraid he’s going to lose his eyeballs the next time I touch his face.

“…if we knew each other since middle school, you wouldn’t visit me in the hospital…” I mumble as I look up to watch Kei framing his handsome face with revulsion. “…or no. You would be happier if I didn’t get my accident, so then I wouldn’t attend this school… One less problem for you…”

Kei achingly squints his eyes, as if he’s carrying a burden of one thousand sinners on his shoulders. “Is that how you see me?”

“Well…” I can’t seem to prevent my voice from trembling again. “…you made me consider those who laughed behind my back and mocked my disability seemed better… Why did you say those words to me? No one has ever brought them back to wring me… And you bought me a drink…? Do you think I would forget because of that?”

“Because usually you’ll forgive someone if they give you food or drink,” Kei reminds me of something I seemingly have always had ever since I was a kid. “But… I know that I made a mistake.”

“…and?” I close my eyes only for a second as I feel Kei’s hand lingering on my neck, tickling my skin a bit. “When someone makes a mistake… what should they say?”

“I’m… sorry.”

I chuckle as the last drops of my tears run down on my cheeks. Kei is too prideful and rigid to do this, so I’m the one who takes the initiative by stepping forward and laying the side of my head on his chest. It’s amazing when he isn’t ashamed to welcome my warmth and wraps his arms around my smaller body before I can do the same to him. We have a very intimate relationship because I’m a clingy girl who constantly needs to lean on someone—literally. Meaning, Kei and I have cuddled so many times before—mostly we were just being cute and playing around because we were bored—but this is the first time when I actually focus my hearing to his heartbeat. Has it always been this fast?

“Hey, Tsukishi—”

“I’m going to leave you for good if you keep using that name.”

I smirk playfully, although no one can see. “Hotaru-kun?”

“Okay. You really want me to leave, don’t you?” Kei pushes me away from him, but when I laugh, he dimly smiles and embraces me back. Now he does it even tighter as his hands are folded on my lower back, chaining me from escaping and it’s not like I’m planning to go anywhere when he’s being very lovely like this.

“Kei,” I softly call his name. “Why… didn’t you apologize sooner?”

Kei presses my body closer to him, perhaps unconsciously reacting to my straight-to-the-point question. “I’d been wanting to, but you kept ignoring me.”

“Eh? Did you just blame me?”

“Tsk. I didn’t say that. Stop accusing me for all the bad things I would never do,” Kei roars in exasperation and it’s hilarious. “It’s just that… I didn’t know how to… You seemed very angry…”

“Are you kidding me? I am still angry at you. You made Japan’s beloved princess cry. What will you say to Kageyama?”

“Huh? What’s up with the King?” Once again, Kei lets go of me, but this time, he doesn’t intend to immediately nestle me back under his arms. I kind of miss the feeling already, but I’m sure I can ask for one whenever I want, as long as we’re still in a good term like this.

“Exactly that, because he’s my father, the king, and I’m his daughter, the princess. Oikawa the great king is my grandfather. Get it?” I explain succinctly in a joking manner. “And I know this will make me a blabbermouth, but I need to say that my father disapproves the idea of us being together. He said that we’re going to fight again and since he loves me more than you do, he doesn’t want to see me get hurt.”

“Eiji-san said that?”

“We’re currently talking about Kageyama, idiot.” I faintly hit Kei’s featureless stomach with my knuckle. “Eiji-san likes you the most. Uh… I don’t know what will his reaction be once he finds out about what you’ve done to me, but I won’t tell him. I’ve saved you many times from getting slapped by many people who dedicate their life to protect this princess.”

Kei scrunches up his nose, most likely getting baffled at my random tale. “That sounds like a period drama.”

“Right?” I smile brighter than ever, but it falters soon because I remember that I need to say one important thing. “Kei, please keep in mind that I won’t be this kind next time. When you do something wrong, go apologize, okay? Not only to me, but also to Yamaguchi, Hinata, your family, and everyone else. Okay?”

“…okay. I know.” I wish Kei has the ability to perceive how happy I am that he accepts my advice without acting up like an unstable brat. “So, are you feeling better now?”

“Why? Are we going to directly jump into another fight? I don’t want to…” I meekly beg, not hoping for a single wrongdoing to destroy this moment because I’ve had enough. The next time I bawl because of Kei, I’m going to ask for a trophy since third’s time the charm, in a very faulty way.

Kei sighs. “No… I want to… talk about something…”

“Ah?” I lift both of my eyebrows and tilt my head to the right, feeling curious because Kei sounds strangely unsure about himself. “Is it the reason why you’re here?”

“…not really.” He glances to the cart on his southeast. “Let’s clean everything first.”

“Okay, but will you buy me a drink after that? There’s Sahara in me,” I ask before he has the chance to move an inch. Swiftly, he nods his head and pats me twice on the head—to that, I can’t help but grin broadly. After all, both of us do prefer our wonderful times over anything else.

* * *

I seat myself cross-legged on the sideline when Kei comes back to me with a bottle of Pocari Sweat in his left hand and a can of Fanta Orange in his right hand. He hands me the latter before he positions himself right in front of me, both legs bent up for only a second before they’re also crossed. I didn’t have any special request when Kei went to the vending machine outside this gym because I assumed he was going to get me the same melon drink as this morning or at least anything with simliar taste in it. So I curl my lips, feeling thankful, but also a bit discontented.

“There’s no melon drink there and I thought you liked this Fanta flavor?” Kei understands me more than anyone else around here, so it’s a no-brainer for him to accurately read my mind. “Try to have different variations. Is your tongue even okay from having the same thing for every single day?”

“Say someone who’s crazy for strawberries,” I retort with a huff. “And correction to that, I don’t drink melon every day. It’s… only six times a week. I don’t drink any on Sundays because there’s none in my refrigerator.”

Kei chortles at my defensive explanation. “That’s the same, idiot.”

“Every day is seven days, not six…” I drop my Fanta on Kei’s lap and seize the bottom part of the Pocari in his left hand. “I want this. Give it to me.”

“There you can have it, my dear spoiled Princess…” Kei complains at my sudden selfishness, but he lets go of his drink without any sign of insincerity. He does this all the time. He acts like he dislikes my action, but in the end of the day, he’ll give me what I want. Not always, but sometimes enough to make my day.

“So…” I open the lid of the cold bottle. “Before you talk, can you answer my question?”

“Hm?”

“Did Yachi and Hinata plan this? I mean… you being here… At first I felt very skeptical, I wanted to punch Yachi,” I express the things I’ve been keeping inside before chugging my Pocari. I haven’t had any form of fresh liquid since more than an hour ago, so I consider every little sugary drop to be my very own oasis.

“No,” Kei briefly replies. “I met Yachi-san when I went out of the third gym. She told me that you’re here. I only said that I wanted to talk to you, but those two were being nosy by themselves.”

“Aw, really? They’re so cute,” I make a remark that has nothing to do with Kei’s clarification, but I just feel like it. “And? What do you want to discuss with me?”

“It’s… Uh…” Kei grips the Fanta can without elevating the actual item and it doesn’t look like he intends to open the tab anytime soon.

Ten seconds pass in a stilted quietness and I automatically roll my eyes. “Kei, just talk. Stop being a _tsundere_. You’re wasting time.”

“Have you ever had ‘that moment’ in volleyball?”

And it’s my turn to be silent for the same amount of time before I blink my eyes again. “What do you mean?”

“Bokuto-san mentioned about ‘that moment’, the one that made him consider volleyball to be fun.” Kei stares down at his shoe laces. “For him, it’s when he mastered his straight and won against the same blockers who beat him before.”

“Hm… I’m not quite sure which one is it for me, but I felt the happiest when the crowd cheered on me. Not my team, but specifically when they called my name. Also… when everyone depended on me and when I scored the most. Or… every time my parents praised me and drove me to the best Italian restaurant in town after my victory. I don’t know, I have so many memorable moments because I’ve joined many tournaments,” I recount the story of my past that’s actually not very far behind as I was still in a team last year. “Then what is it, Kei? Are you trying to say that you haven’t found ‘your moment’ yet?”

Kei ambiguously shrugs, but I take that as a yes because I’ve memorized some of his best quirks. Seven out of ten times when he declares the ignorant words of “I don’t care”, “I don’t know”, or “it’s none of my business”, it’ll be followed by all the work done. Example, when I ask him to find me an article for our geography homework, he’ll refuse with some redundant sarcasms and vicious lectures about how lazy plus useless I am. He’ll only read my chat, but five minutes later he’ll come back with so many fulfilling links. That’s just him and his I-Want-To-Look-Cool syndrome. I’m getting used to it already. Or barely.

“I think it’s not the greatest decision to talk about this to you. You were born differently than the rest of us. You parents breathe volleyball, so of course their only daughter will do so. The way you see volleyball is the same as Kageyama or Hinata. There mustn’t be a time when you play volleyball half-heartedly,” Kei begins another troublesome blather, but it’s not for long before he stops and stares right into my eyes. “I… know some—um, never mind.”

My eyebrows furrow from madness. “Kei! What are you trying to hide? It’s me, not some random stranger!”

“…no, that’s fine.”

“Okay. If you tell me about yourself, you can ask one personal thing about me.” I offer something that now I sort of regret, but I understand the rule of receiving and giving very well. “No more secret between the two of us. You can ask me anything, as long as it’s not something perverted. Father disapproves. I mean Kage—”

“Stop. That’s gross.”

I cackle with glee, my shoulders dance up and down. “Okay, okay. Now tell me. I’m all ears. Your story is safe, I swear on my crown.”

“And also, please stop addressing yourself that way,” Kei requests for something hypocritical because it’s him who calls me “princess” for every single day.

“Okay. Now hurry.” I nod my head and slurp my Pocari bit by bit because I don’t want to finish everything before Kei lets out everything he needs to. I don’t want to be distracted by another phase of dehydration midway.

“I know… someone… He was the ace of his team during middle school. Overall, he was an outstanding player and I used to watch him all the time. Then when he was in high school, he joined another strong team.” For a moment, I thought Kei was talking about me, but his last sentence wrecks my assumption. “Unfortunately, he wasn’t good enough. He never got chosen as a regular or even a substitute… and he was depressed because volleyball was everything for him. He trained so hard, but he couldn’t make it.”

“And then?” I ask for the continuation because Kei stays immobile, albeit his eyes are still on me.

“Don’t you think that this always happens? Only a chosen few can reach their dreams. People go to prestigious college, choosing a major they think is the best for them, but only five percent who can eventually work in the same field once they graduate. My mother studied engineering and now she’s only a housewife, doing nothing besides cooking for her family and dusting the shelves. Her previous job before meeting my father was being an accountant, which had nothing to do with the four years she spent studying. There are seventy students in this training camp, but probably only Bokuto-san and Kageyama who can become professionals.”

“Kei, I think many of those people are dreaming something way beyond their capability and most of them aren’t even trying hard enough.” I fasten the lid of my bottle and place it in front of my legs. “Let’s say they want to be a singer, but they’re all talk because they don’t even look for auditions. We live in an age of technology. We can just go to Google and find so many information, but instead, they spend time and money to attend musical school, dumbly thinking that a piece of paper will grant them their wish. Same like everyone goes to business school, but how many of them can actually build their own company, right? I know many people who are like this. I heard stories from my parents too.”

“So, are you saying that my mother—”

“No, I was only talking about the bad type. There are a few determined people, but luck does exist,” I cut Kei’s sentence before he misjudges me. “There are those who become rich auto-tuned singers, merely because their parents are celebrities and it gives them a free ticket to stardom, while there may be a little girl with a voice of an angel in a poor country out there. You call that luck mixed with tragedy. Perhaps your mother didn’t become an engineer because she applied for a competitive job with one thousand contenders who graduated from Europe. Perhaps when she had the chance, she already felt secure with her job as an accountant. Perhaps she could have another chance, but she chose to dedicate her entire energy to her family. Who knows, Kei?”

“And that’s what I’m talking about. Ultimately, there will always be someone better than you. I just don’t see the point of trying so hard when you can already see that you won’t make the cut. Like Hinata… we all know that he’ll never become a professional with that height and unusual playstyle.” Kei averts his eyes to the empty court on his left, looking a bit resentful about something I still can’t understand.

“You know… I hate the way you see the world. So much,” I bitterly mutter as Kei twitches his eyes, but without gazing back at me. “If you think that way, then do it full on. We’re all going to die and rot, won’t we? Then make it like this… Why should we eat and drink if we’re going to die, anyway? Why should we go to school, find a job, buy a house, and get married if we’re going to die, anyway? Why should we have children? If you make me pregnant, let’s instantly do abortion because our kids are going to grow old and die, anyway. What a fantastic mindset to have, right?”

“But you yourself had an accident. Wasn’t that hurting you?” This is the first time I see Kei gritting his teeth that intensely. “The higher you climb, the more painful it gets when you fall. If you don’t give your all, once you lose what you love, your heart won’t suffer too much.”

“Whatever happens, happens, you’re the one who told me that.” My pitch increases, but instead of being angry, all I can feel is disappointment. “Who knows whether tomorrow is the end of the world? Maybe on our way home from this training camp, our bus will crash against a wall or a truck and Takeda-sensei is the only survivor with amputated legs? Maybe next week, a meteor will fall in Miyagi and kill us all? Maybe in a year, one of our parents will die from an incurable disease? Maybe, maybe, maybe, stop with all of your maybes. How old are you? Childish.”

Without looking the slightest at me, Kei frowns hard. He opens his mouth—maybe aiming to make a rejoinder to my speech—but he picks the best option by gulping down whatever written on the tip of his tongue. He can’t win this battle because I’ll keep saying the same thing over and over again. I’ll keep dragging him in a circle and trying to make him understand that the way he thinks is very dangerous and wretched. He’s someone dear to me and there’s no way I’m going to leave him in this state. Like I’ve said countless times before, I want him to be successful and he can’t if he still thinks this way.

“It would be a total lie if I said that I wasn’t sad because I had an accident. I wanted to play volleyball for another twenty years and retire when I’m old enough, but here… listen to me.” I reach out for Kei’s left arm and yank it so the owner will finally give his full attention back to me. “My heart didn’t suffer that much because I knew that I left a mark. That’s all I want from this world. I want to leave a mark, so that after I die, people will always remember me as that one girl who once was the brightest star they saw on the court. Do you understand?”

Languidly, Kei widens his eyes. “…yes.”

“I’m not quite sure if you completely understand, but it’s fine for now,” I affirm half-heartedly. “And about this one acquaintance of yours… just think that ‘his moment’ hadn’t arrive that time. He went to this high school when coincidentally, there were better players than him. During my first year in middle school, I lost so many matches because the regulars surrounding me weren’t that capable, but a year later, I kept winning. Hinata also had that. Just four months ago, he was no one and you couldn’t even consider his volleyball team as a ‘team’. Now, he’s one of our main offenses and he almost defeated Aoba Jousai last June.”

“But willpower only isn’t enough.”

“True. People who only have willpowers are in one category with those I mentioned before—the ones who dream too high without trying. Talent itself isn’t enough. Willpower itself isn’t enough. Practicing itself isn’t enough, but the last two are the strongest when combined.” I smile at Kei, roaming both of my hands down to his. “Do you know what you want to become in the future? What about being a professional?”

“Are you kidding me?” Kei snorts, projecting back his usual unconfident self. “I can’t. I’m not good enough. I’m not you, your parents, or the King of the Court.”

I flutter my eyes a couple of times before giggling all by myself. “Kei, you really should love yourself more than this.”

“What?”

“I’m not sugarcoating you and I’ve met so many players throughout my life, so please trust me when I say this.” I mildly squeeze Kei’s bigger hands. “You’re a skillful player. You’re very tall, quick, smart, and you’re a middle blocker my parents will gladly accept into their team. Just… work harder and be more motivated. Don’t you dare to think that you will fail like everyone else. You’re a lucky guy and treat your gifts well. I’m sure you’ll have a good future.”

“…huh, I don’t know.” Kei pulls his hands, only to take over mine and he doesn’t forget to use his thumbs to stroke both of my palms. “I don’t know what I want to become.”

“That’s totally normal,” I assure him, gazing down at how our skins come in contact with each other. “After I had my accident, I didn’t know what I wanted to become, but when Yachi and Kiyoko-senpai suggested the idea of me becoming a coach like my parents, I thought to myself that it sounded nice. High payment, flexible work time, very easy job, and many more. High school is the place where we’ll grow up and learn about our expertise, but still, don’t be too late and don’t keep following your whims. Senior year before we apply for university is the limit. Don’t choose the wrong place to study either. Be like those five percent who manage to reach their dreams. Okay?”

“Wow. I’ve known it all along that you’re very realistic, but you also talk too much.”

“Because I want the best for you, idiot!” I growl, but when Kei smiles, I have the urge to do the same. “This is funny. I’ve never told you about my best friend from Shiratorizawa, have I? Both of you are so different from each other. Like fire and ice. How could I become close to you?”

“Who?”

“Goshiki Tsutomu. He’s also a first year like us. He’s getting a scholarship from Shiratorizawa. We were planning to go there together, but… you know… Boom, everyone’s in tears.” I should stop with this self-deprecating joke, but I can’t help myself. “He’s like… the combination of Hinata and Kageyama. Talented, powerful, enthusiastic, kind, compassionate—he’s someone I want, not… you. Why won’t you switch places with him?”

Abruptly, Kei lifts his right hand to pinch my nose and I’m genuinely startled. “You really don’t have any female friend, huh?”

I shake my head. “No. Girls are evils, me excluded.”

“…you’re a strange person,” Kei sneers at me. “I heard rumors about you.”

“Ah, which one?” How easy for me to question this because I know myself that I’ve had a lot of bad things said behind my back, ranging from the fakest to the almost-real ones. One time an article said that I was forced by my parents to play volleyball, even though I didn’t want that. The next article was about my parents’ plan to engage me to this much older guy whose name I can’t recall then and now.

“Shortly after you joined us as a manager, the third years in the clubroom were talking about what you did on the final of the All-Japan Tournament during your second year in middle school. You only played for a few minutes and your team miserably lost because you weren’t there.”

“Kei, you’re actually a gossiper, aren’t you? You know many things, even about people from Kitaiichi who give Kageyama that loathsome nickname.”

“I just happened to hear.”

“Right.” I free my hands from Kei because I need to reopen my Pocari. “Among everyone here, I think Kageyama understands me the most, although I’m not sure if he knows what’s going on that time. Um, that is unless my setter told him one or two things.”

“Huh? What is it?” No wonder if Kei doesn’t get the gist of my vagueness.

“Is this going to be your question regarding my personal life?” I need to make sure so he won’t charge me double. He can be that petty.

“Yes, whatever makes you happy," Kei nonchalantly answers, but I know that he’s eager to hear me out.

“No offense, but truth be told, Kei, I don’t really want to tell you because I’m afraid that you’ll use this when we have a fight. You’re that kind of person,” I convey my real feeling before I take a sip of my drink that luckily is still cold enough to freshen my throat. “But that’s fine. The next time you rub my past in my face will be the last time we ever talk to each other. Am I understood?”

“…you are.”

“Good.” I close the lid of my bottle and place it back on the same place as before. “It’s true that the reason why I choose to enroll myself in Karasuno is because it’s near my house, but the number one reason is because none of my teammates are here.”

Kei dilates his eyes and I snigger. This story is going to take everything I have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to my [unreachable husband](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jO2_3pVd5k0) when I wrote this chapter and I was thinking to change one of the scenes into:
>
>> “If you love me let me go!” Before he gets to bound me, I stretch out both of my hands to shove him away—it begins from his chest and quickly crawls up to his chin. “If you love me let me go! ‘Cause these words are knives and often leave scars!”
>> 
>> “Is it the fear of falling apart?!” Kei uses an enormous effort to haul down both of my hands, but I’m going strong. Sometimes my movement turns into scratching the air, sometimes it turns into hitting his neck. For sure none is any different from what elementary schoolers will do during a silly quarrel with their friend. I’m pathetic, but I don’t know what else to do.
>> 
>> “And truth be told, I never was yours!” I swear I’m so thirsty from all the shouting, but I can’t seem to stop. “It sure is the fear, the fear of falling apart!”
>> 
>> Oh-oh-oh-uwo-uwo-oh-oh…
>> 
>> ~The End~
> 
>   
> Anyway, should the next chapter be titled “Word”, “PowerPoint”, or “Excel”? If no one answers, I’m not going to update until next December. ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ
> 
> Haha. I should sleep now. Thank you for reading until this far. ♥


	33. In Hindsight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s wrong?” Kei’s aware that my voice falters near the end of my sentence and at the same time, my eyes rapidly wander to everywhere but him. I don’t need to see my own reflection to be sure that I look perturbed.
> 
> “Nothing… just realizing that I’m… quite a hypocrite. I told you not to do things, but I’m doing exactly the same. Sorry.” I tuck my hair behind both of my ears, my fingers tremble slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heiho, everyone! ＼(＾▽＾)／
> 
> 1\. At first, I wrote this chapter all in narration (to explain the heroine’s backstory faster) and had like 5k words done. Then I realized that “omg, no, this is boring and I need more skinship with Tsukki!”, so I rewrote the entire chapter and got this 11k+…
> 
> 2\. That being said, this is still Tsukki-centric… almost. It’s so heavy in dialogue, so please bear with me if it doesn’t seem right.
> 
> 3\. For the title… I have no idea why I chose “In Hindsight” while in reality, I don’t even know how to apply that term in my daily conversation. XD
> 
> 4\. Here’s the most important thing to announce today: sad to say, but this is going to be my last chapter before I’m going into an indefinite hiatus. I’ve written a long explanation in the end notes, so you may want to go down there now and read everything.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Don’t you want to hear everything about me, Kei?” I stress the word “everything”, smirking at Kei who raises his eyebrows in anticipation and confusion. “But that’ll cost more.”

“Do you think I’ll do something unreasonable only for that?” I can tell that Kei’s retort is nothing sort of surprising, but I too know that he doesn’t really mean it. After all, I’ve come to understand that whenever he says no to me, most of the time it will mean the opposite. I can’t generalize that treatment to everyone else, though. Not even to Yamaguchi.

“Aw… So, you’re not curious? But my story won’t be as exquisite as how it’s supposed to be without the first part of—”

“Tsk. You seriously talk too much.” Kei heaves a brief sigh, looking down only for a moment to his legs before staring back at me. “What do you want?”

I stretch the corners of my mouth as wide as they can go because I’ve known all along that Kei will eventually break his walls to let me in and grant me what I wish for. “Hm, let me think about that later? How about that?”

“Whatever,” Kei nonchalantly replies with the monotonous tone he’s always had, but that tickles my stomach even more. Not that I dislike the feeling. It’s joyfulness merged with pure bliss.

“Okay, let’s start by telling you about my parents? My father was born in Sendai and my mother was in Tokyo,” I begin the first sentence of my long reminiscence. “They lived their life similarly—both started their volleyball journey when they were six. My father stayed in Miyagi until he got scouted by a high school in Tokyo… Um, I don’t know which one, he never told me and I forgot to ask, but in the end, he got scouted again by Hosei University. They won so many tournaments when he was there. My mother was also living in Tokyo the entire time and she got scouted by Nittaidai. She also won, of course. She won big.”

“Your mother is really amazing,” Kei mutters a compliment I’ve heard countless times from so many people.

“She sure is. She’s always been a better player than my father. A better coach as well, funnily,” I assert, based on the fact that my mother has brought her team to take the first place in many tournaments for years. “You know my father is a lanky middle blocker like you, then we have my mother who’s a wing spiker but so versatile that she can easily switch to any position. She’s kind of like Kageyama.”

Kei snorts. “Well, yeah, not shocking. An elite like him.”

“Hey, what about changing that term into ‘a prodigy’? I don’t care what you think, but Kageyama is the best player in Karasuno. Better than you. Overall, he’s even more useful than me or Bokuto-san who can only spike,” I snarl, but when Kei puts on an obnoxious look, I know that I should let this small matter go and continue with my recount. “…anyway, after they graduated from college, my mother was scouted by Hitachi Rivale, a first-level volleyball team in Ibaraki and my father was scouted by Toyota Sunhawks, a second-level team in Aichi. They said that they bumped into each other so many times in tournaments or exclusive gatherings, but they never actually began a relationship until years later. For a tiny bit of information, my mother is three years younger than my father, but I was never told and I never asked about how they fell in love.”

“And it’s not like you care,” Kei adds a sentence I always declare whenever I share stories about my parents to him. Sometimes my father is being indecent by whining about something a child mustn’t hear, so every time that happens, I’ll shield my ears and shout “I don’t care! Go tell that to someone else!”. Kei knows because since the day we met, there hasn’t been a single story about my family that misses him.

“Exactly.” I smile while nodding a couple of times. “But my father only played for Toyota Sunhawks for less than three years before he moved to Sakai Blazers in Osaka, it’s also a first-level volleyball team. You know the difference between the first-level and second-level, right?”

“No, I don’t know anything about volleyball.” Kei rolls his eyes clockwise and I swear I want to prick those golden irises until he goes eternally blind. Fortunately, I can’t allow my emotion to take over my rationality. I know it’s impossible for us to not get into another quarrel near in the future, but I must maintain the steady relationship we have now. At least we should hold ourselves until we leave the summer training camp because it won’t look pleasant in people’s eyes if we “break up” twice over the span of seven days. It’s as if we behave strangely as the side effect of being mentally ill—which we certainly don’t suffer from.

“Why are you so sardonic? Just speak normally…” But still, I feel the need to rebuke his awful attitude. He needs to fix so many things about himself.

“I know, I know. The first-level plays for V. Premiere League, the second-level plays for V. Challenge League. The players for the national team are mostly taken from those who play for the V. Premiere. V. Premiere has six teams for each gender and V. Challenge has… seven or eight. They have a hierarchical system, in which the V. Challenge teams can be promoted into the V. Premiere if they play good enough and vice versa.”

“That’s correct, Tsukishima-san, but you speak more than needed,” I grumble with a pout after Kei’s explanation comes to an end.

“Right, but if I didn’t expound excessively, you’d sulk. Geeez, what do you want from me?” he complains, fingers wanting to squeeze my nose, but I’m agile enough to slap his hand before he gets to touch my skin. “And what did I say before? Don’t call me with my surname. Are you deaf or having a brain impairment?”

“Okay, Kei-chan! Onto the next part!” I shout while still keeping my eyes on him, therefore I can always be prepared to propel his aggressiveness away from my guileless body. “So, my parents retired at the same time before they got married. He was thirty-three, she was thirty. They moved back to Miyagi, found a job as a coach in their current university and long story short, they brought me into their little life.”

“Wait, why are you being poetical? Speak normally.”

“Kei! Stop cutting my words!” I scrunch my nose uptight as I incline my body onward to grip Kei’s jaw, but it’s rather fast for me to lessen my power and recede to my previous place. “Never mind. I’m going back to take a shower and sleep. Thank you for wasting my time.”

“Oi, I was just playing with you. Stop taking everything too seriously.” As always, Kei feels the necessity to defend himself to some extent, even when he’s plainly vicious. “Come on, tell me now.”

“Nah, I don’t want to anymore. My back hurts, I’m tired, I’m sweaty, and I want to lie on my futon,” I kindly refuse, not minding Kei’s puppy eyes that I often despise because of how dangerous they can get. When I’m having the worst day of my life and Kei adds wound to my trauma by abusing me verbally, he can easily be forgiven with a small cordial look into my eyes. In all likelihood, he can become lovely and hearty, so I wonder why Satan chooses to dwell inside him. Or maybe more like why does he let Satan in? I need an enlightenment.

“…and this is why people say that girls are so annoying. Asking for something, but when they’re given what they want, they play hard to get,” Kei murmurs a subdued insult, but since the distance between us is less than a meter, I can totally hear every single syllable that comes out of his mouth.

“You’re being sexist now, but whatever. I’m not in the mood to trouble myself with your hollow words.” I sigh before pointing at the wall to my left. “Sit there and lean against the wall. Don’t forget to straighten your legs.”

“And why should I?” Kei makes a suspicious look that’s irritating as ever.

“Kei, just do it! Why are you always being so difficult?!” I roar and it’s hilarious to witness the bad guy at last gives in and stands up to walk to his northeast without throwing any unnecessary objection. It doesn’t take too much time for him to be sitting on where I want him to, altogether with the perfect legs position. I drop my Pocari right next to the Fanta Orange that’s being left alone before crawling closer to him, only to stop when I’m directly next to his lean figure.

“Ah?” Kei raises his eyebrows in realization, face only a few inches away from mine. “You could ask nicely about wanting to use my thighs as your personal pillow.”

“If I do ask… will you refuse?” I tilt my head sideways, attempting to be cute albeit knowing full well that Kei will never fall for anything dolly. Perhaps only when I tie my hair in high pigtails using a pair of strawberry bows and cover my bodies with nothing but the fresh version of the fruit. Now that I rethink about it, it’s more disgusting than attractive. I can’t imagine anyone looking fine in that, even if that someone is as stunning as Kitagawa Keiko.

“I’m going to kick you if you complain about my thighs not being comfortable enough because they’re too bony for your neck,” Kei warns me, his eyes are drifting away to the empty corners of the gym. I’m sure he does this reflexively from being shy of how we’re situated now—I should say, there’s not enough space to keep us from doing something more intimate than what we have now.

“Ugh, I was planning to say that…” I simply tease him because the next thing I do is give him one hug around his torso, pat him on the head with a small bonus of feeling his smooth wavy hair, and lay my head carefully on his lap. Five seconds haven’t passed when I stretch my right hand upward, using the my fingernails to graze his chin, making him clutch my wrist and gaze down at me.

“What more do you want? You’ve scratched my cheek. Don’t ruin my face any further than this.” He squints his eyes, but that’s just an act because he doesn’t look mad at all.

“Nothing… just being happy that we can be like this.” I smile dimly, but genuinely. “Is it prohibited by the law for me to be this way?”

“…don’t be a random freak. Just talk.”

“Mhm.” I draw back my hand, folding it with the other one and prop them on my stomach as my eyes rove around the gym’s dusty ceiling. “I’ll get angry if you mock me again for my phrasing, but… it seems like the moment I took my first breath, my future was set. I would continue my parents’ athletic lineage and pass it through my own bloodline. I would become the same, if not a better volleyball player than them. I would hold my career until I was at least thirty years old. I would retire in a good form and continue my life as a coach, just like them. Everything was beautifully planned, but… yeah, it didn’t happen because life is a mystery.”

Kei doesn’t give any comment, but he runs his hand through my hair and I shiver as a reaction to that. Unhurriedly, I focus my attention back at him. I think by acquiescing in his gesture, I already give a clear hint that he’s got all the permission to be affectionate to me. I mean, do I even have to write down all the reasons why I enjoy this side of him more than anything else? It’s like proclaiming to the world that I prefer to be given a fresh apple than the rotten one. We all get it.

“Kei, do you still remember when was the first time I learned to play volleyball?” I ask after some time in silence.

“When you were five, only three years before me,” Kei replies solemnly, making me all joyful that he did listen to our small conversations back then. Maybe not all, but most.

“Right, but we never really talked about our training. We should’ve learned more about each other, don’t you think so?” I take a deep breath, replaying all the memories from years ago in my head. “If my parents had had the time, they would’ve definitely taught me themselves, but they were swamped with their unpredictable work schedule. In the end, they brought me to this volleyball training center for kids in Sendai named Little Blasters. Do you know this place?”

“Yes. Heard about it for being expensive.”

“Um, I think the expensive one is the private class because it’s one student with one instructor in a single gym for one and a half hour. The instructor is also a real volleyball player or at least a retiree, because those who teach twenty kids all at once are ordinary people who get paid way less,” I describe in detail and I’m glad that Kei doesn’t interject me with “I know that already” or something similar. “So yeah, my parents put me in the private class. Normally, it would only be for once a week on either Saturday or Sunday, but I had to go there for every single afternoon, including holidays.”

“Crazy.” Kei’s hand travels into my forehead, swiping some of my fringes sideways. Sometimes I automatically close my eyes when his fingers hover right above my eyelids.

“Yes. It sounds ruthless for a baby, but I know that my parents prepared me to become number one, not just ‘good enough’,” I agree, but also disagree with Kei’s one-word statement. “I still remember Hisami-chan, my instructor. She’s an incredibly tall and quite a big woman in her mid-twenty with a dark brown bob cut. She used to play as a regular wing spiker for Tohoku University. She couldn’t make the cut into a professional senior team and she loved children, so she opted to teach as an alternative. I think she’s still working there because when I was hospitalized, she visited me three times. I forgot to ask for her LINE.”

“Just go there when you can and say hi. What’s hard about that? Your house isn’t that far from Sendai.”

“You’re right, but I don’t want to go there alone, so… will Kei-chan accompany me?” After some time, I stare back at Kei’s eyes as he does the same to mine. “Ah… Is being quiet considered a ‘yes’?”

“…as long as I’m not busy.”

“Busy? Yeah, I do believe that. You’re absolutely not going to spend the rest of your summer by being in your room, playing ga—oi!” I can’t finish my sentence as Kei suddenly pinches my left cheek, as if I’m as flexible as a pizza dough. “Kei! That hurts!”

“Shut up. This is nothing, compared to the line you craved on mine.” Kei smirks nonchalantly and I’m considering to listen to my overwhelming impulse to rip that baby face he has.

“Why are you holding grudge?! And it’s not like you’re a public figure who’s photographed every single day, so why do you care?!” I scream for the nth time today, but the intensity in my voice falters when Kei finally spares my burned cheek. “Okay, stop it. No more. Keep your hands to yourself. We’re going to be here until next Monday if you keep bothering me like this.”

“Who told you to stop? Go on.” And now he acts innocent and blames me. Once a despicable human being, always a despicable human being. He won’t change in a year, let alone a day. At least he needs half a century.

“Okay, so…” I keep glancing at Kei to make sure that he none of my body part will be his next victim. “What I learned for the first weeks were all the basic stances in volleyball—how I was supposed to bend my body, position my limbs, et cetera. Next, I was taught how to pass, spike, and receive with a mini-volleyball specifically made for kids… you know which one. Sometimes Hisami-chan would explain some rules along the way, but I was barely able to memorize two, so she always let the them slide away. Back then it didn’t really matter that much, anyway.”

“It’s because you’re stu—” Kei tries to hold his laughter when I give him a death glare. “I didn’t say anything.”

“…when I was seven, I was taught more as my body had developed and became sturdier. I was quickly able to master overhand pass and stronger spike, better than any girl my age,” I continue, while hoping that I don’t sound too full of myself. “There wasn’t a volleyball club in my elementary school and I remember that I would always wait for afternoon to come so I could meet Hisami-chan as early as possible. I was the happiest when my hands touched the ball. I always begged her to teach me another technique, even the ones that I shouldn’t try before I got a bit older. Before long, everyone agreed that I was born to play volleyball, not because my parents coerced me or whatnot.”

“Yeah.” It feels like a dream when Kei only says one single word like this.

“To commemorate the moment they knew about their daughter’s gift, my parents made a new rule. Right after they drove me back from the volleyball lesson to home, I had to do ten normal serves, receives, or overhand passes before I could have dinner with them. A year later, I made everyone in Little Blasters drop their jaws when out of nowhere, I showed them an excellent jump serve. I just got into my fourth year in elementary school, but I could do something that can be too challenging for adults to master. I told them that I learned it only the night before, when I watched some big guys doing it for a match broadcasted in J-Sport. People began to call me a prodigy, Japan’s future star, and some more.”

“It wouldn’t be surprising, would it?” For the second time, Kei plays with my hair. “After all, you’re the flesh and blood of two incredible players.”

“Yeah, but my beloved training only got rougher. My parents changed the ten basic volleyball moves into ten jump serves. It might make them appear like a dictator, but I had never felt that way. I was thrilled, instead. If I could, I wanted to do more and surely, every two weeks, they would increase the requirement bit by bit. Fifteen, twenty, thirty, fifty, and right after I graduated from elementary school, I hit the mark of one hundred. Every single night before dinner. I think my stamina, power, and overall skill were exceptional. The only problem was the height because I was still very young, but if it weren’t there, I would’ve been able to defeat any young female player in the country. Like I was drilled to overcome anything.”

“Mhm.”

“And… for middle school, my parents actually thought about Shiratorizawa because it’s the best school in Miyagi, but it was too far in Sendai. They wouldn’t have time to drive me there early in the morning nor they would allow their eleven years old to be on the road all by herself. They should’ve bought a house in Sendai, so I don’t know what they were thinking. In the end, I went to Kazegari Middle School which is just five minutes by foot from my house. During that time, the female volleyball team was in top sixteen of All-Japan Tournament and the male one was in top four. It was the best option.”

“At least your school is better than Amemaru Middle School,” Kei mentions about his own middle school and in some way, he looks disappointed that he didn’t go to mine. It’s either because he loves me that much or he’s just an absurd being.

“Yes, the school itself is quite fancy. The buildings are well-designed. The lunches are all-organic. There are small gardens with buckets of fresh flowers built throughout the area. Academically, it’s quite tough with a minimum mark of seventy-five for all the classes, but I’m not stupid, Kei-chan. I’m in a same class as you now. A college prep one, okay?” I want to poke Kei’s nose, but he snatches my fingers faster than I’m able to reach him. “Anyway… I was quite happy there. On the first day, I befriended those who sat around me and we talked about music, food, and movie like we had known each other since ten years ago. There were also some who went to the same elementary school as me and we got along just well.”

“Are you trying to imply that you’re good with new people and I’m not?” Out of nowhere, Kei accuses me ans I can’t help but burst out laughing. My chest rises and falls.

“What? Hahaha. I didn’t say anything about that, so why did you assume that way? Are you self-conscious or something? Hahaha.”

“Shut up. Just continue. You’re stretching your story way too much,” Kei protests, but this time, he doesn’t try to abuse me like before. I’m proud of myself that I manage to control him, although I bet, it’s only temporarily.

“So, on the second day, I went to the volleyball club alone because none of my classmates chose that. The female coach knew about my parents, so she was quite bedazzled that I was there. All of the seniors and new members were no different. It was weird because I hadn’t played in any matches, but they already labeled me as someone-to-watch.” I chuckle, half from my story and the other half is the remains of Kei’s amusing accusation. “We were tested—just as a formality—and I excelled. The coach said that she had never seen a first grader that skillful and I should play as a regular. It was memorable… The first time people my age actually cheered on me because I had been playing in my private lesson, never more. But seemingly, I wasn’t the only genius.”

“I bet Goshiki your best friend was also mind-blowing,” Kei guesses and I show him my left thumb to approve his words.

“Bingo. Both him and I were the talk of the day, but we never officially met in the first week of the school. I was in class five, he was in two. We were only in the same class during the third year. I didn’t even know his face, but I heard his name being mentioned by everyone around me. Same happened to him, he heard my name too.” I smile, remembering about how adorable Goshiki was and still is. “Our first encounter was like something out of a _shoujo_ manga. It was raining and I was waiting alone in front of the school with no one besides me. Then Goshiki Tsutomu came with an umbrella—”

“That’s made-up,” Kei chimes in, resulting in me having to bite my tongue to suppress my urge to cackle as loud as I can. “Hurry and tell me the right one.”

“We… just met in the cafeteria. We coincidentally stood next to each other when we were lining to get the school lunch. I was talking to a friend and she spoke my name. All of a sudden, Shiki-chan tapped my shoulder and said ‘so you’re [F/N]!’. He’s so precious and quick with people. So, yeah… but every time we passed each other on the hallway, we would talk. My friends and I spent some breaks with him and his friends. It was nice, he’s the best person ever.”

“I see… and don’t call me rude, but where’s the answer to my question?”

I grunt at how impatient and peevish Kei can get because clearly, I’ve told him that he needs to know everything in order for the story to go smoother. Before I continue, I decide that lying on a cold floor isn’t too cozy, so I struggle to lift my upper body, with Kei supporting my back and my hands that can find enough balance on his shoulders. My position now isn’t that efficient for two people conversing with each other because the guy is literally behind me. That’s why I swiftly rotate myself one hundred eighty degree, my feet are resting on top of his. I smile when I don’t perceive any disapproval. We’ve gotten so far in our relationship that I’m always welcome to come in contact with almost everything he has, but of course, he’s granted the same privilege.

“Okay, let’s begin…” I exhale a puff of breath, eyes staring into Kei’s. “There were like… twelve first years including myself and I was the only one chosen as a regular. Even all the substitutes were from the second and third year. If I’m not mistaken, there were four regulars from the third year and two from the second year. That was six… and the seventh was me. I was also the shortest wing spiker because the other two were third years.”

“Were the seniors jealous of you?”

“…jealous is only at the beginning and it sounds so small, Kei.” I grin indifferently, removing the black tie from my ponytail that’s all messed up and letting my hair falls anywhere they want. “They hated me. If they had gathered enough guts, probably they would’ve pushed me from the rooftop since the moment I showed my face. Especially the second and third years who felt like I took their spot. Not all treated me that way… but it was like eighteen out of twenty and the two didn’t do anything.”

“Then my speculation was right. You kept saying about not wanting to befriend girls and… you surely aren’t close with any girls in our class. I immediately thought that you experienced something bad with your middle school friends. Apparently, it’s your teammates, huh?” Kei reveals what’s been lingering in his mind for months. “What did they do to you?”

“Well… All of them were only brave enough to whisper behind my back, but sometimes I overheard and some of my friends would inform me about the things they heard themselves, such as I’m not a good player and merely become a regular because of my parents’ fame, but when they saw me doing something remarkable, they would change their commentary by saying that I’m only good because of my parents. In conclusion, everything that I own is because of my parents. They knew that I practiced harder than anyone there, but obviously, haters would always try to find your mistake. If I have nine skills and one weakness, they’ll only see that one weakness and keep reusing it as the main topic to degrade me in their daily conversation. Typical.”

“You should’ve been proud of yourself because you were like a celebrity. They cared so much about you while you didn’t even think about them.” Once again, Kei slides his fingers between my hair and begins to comb it down, trying to untangle the rumpled strands with extra care. I give him consent to do whatever he wants to it as long as he doesn’t rip anything from my scalp and he’s done it a lot of times before. Maybe more than twenty.

“Yes, I thought that way too. I was fine, truthfully. The first years were beside me and they would always defend me. The coach and advisor were also supportive because one time they scolded the second and third years.” I listlessly smile. “I wasn’t officially the ace when I started. It was this _senpai_ from the third year, but everyone knew that because of me, our team could go to the finals of All-Japan Tournament. Never in the history that Kazegari’s female volleyball team could climb that high. Also… since I constantly scored the most, all spectators thought that I was the real ace. I became… viral, if I can say it that way. I was extremely well-known and there were a lot of reporters queuing to have a five-minute interview with me. Then I got my own exclusive coverage in Monthly Volleyball and many more things.”

“Let me guess? Your seniors got even angrier and blamed everything on your parents again?”

“Hahaha, of course they did! Isn’t my life akin to a fairytale that makes you think about how unfair this world can be? Like I’m a talented pianist, born from two world-renowned musicians, while there are many who spend the rest of their life by working behind a colorless desk from nine to five,” I validate Kei’s sentence with a chuckle. “I hate jealous people, more than thieves or liars. I mean… it’s totally normal to envy what other people have, but at least use that feeling to improve yourself, not to hate or to become dispirited and give up on your future. Okay, Kei-chan?”

“What?”

“Because you’re jealous of Hinata,” I speak to the point and make Kei stop moving his fingers on my hair as he looks a bit bewildered and offended. I guarantee everyone that his excessive pride is at fault for that.

“Huh?” Kei sounds displeased. “I’m not—”

“Just like I said before, you’re a good player, better than him. You can become a professional while it’s nearly impossible for him, unless if he gets twenty centimeters taller… which won’t happen…” I don’t give Kei a chance to finish because I know that he’ll refuse to admit his own feeling, whether it’s positive or negative. “Now… I notice you have the number one personality that I hate. I should’ve left you months ago, but I don’t know why I’m doing the opposite. Then when I contemplate harder about this, I realize that I’m quite okay with jealous people who are quiet because they don’t affect my life. If someone’s going to lose something, it’s them and not me because it’s them who will be stuck with their life and suffer.”

Kei only gives me a sharp hum as a response. I don’t know what that means, but I prefer to believe that a quarter of him doesn’t appreciate my judgement and the three-quarter does acknowledge that jealousy is what he feels toward Hinata. Maybe because he also knows that the more he fights me, the more I will be more sure that what I have in mind is correct. Though I won’t say it out loud, I’m thankful that he shuts his mouth and accepts my advice because we all know that he doesn’t have a right manner and sufficient social skill, especially when he feels that he’s being attacked.

“What I can’t handle are jealous people who try to hurt me, physically and mentally. That’s when I need to open my eyes and care because I need to protect myself.” I dart my eyes away from Kei, looking straight to the net on my left. “I think since back then, people could already sense something going on in my team. During the quarterfinal of the All-Japan Tournament in my first year, my setter—who was a third year—kept tossing to me for the entire set. I was exhausted until I missed to spike one toss at the beginning of the second set and that’s when my coach noticed that I was being played off. I was immediately called to rest for around ten minutes and my _senpai_ was banned from playing until the competition ended. The setter got switched into this other third year. Kinder, but not really.”

“That’s a nasty move, but why didn’t you yell and give her a lesson firsthand? I thought you were a brave person before this,” Kei growls, most likely from being angry at how those people treated me. He can be very ignorant to people around him, but I know that he won’t tolerate anyone who purposelessly scar me, Yamaguchi, or those who are close to him.

“I thought that if I got angry, they would win, Kei. I wanted to show them that they could throw anything at me and I would still stand up. I swear I was fine,” I convey the reason behind my action. “At least I was fine until my second year.”

“Finally we get into this part after five years have passed,” Kei implies that he’s had enough of me giving a speech about uninteresting things, but his hands are coiling around my body and drawing me closer to him until the side of my head touches his collarbones. I grunt at how bizarre the person beside me is. Even without this sweet tendency, I know that he doesn’t dislike hearing my voice and he just says whatever he wants to say because he considers sarcasm to be what cool kids do.

“The third years graduated and there were many new members who joined the club because they wanted to play with me. There were eight seniors left and they got even bitter because these first years were always praising me. The team then got reformed and I was the ace. There was also this one middle blocker from the second year that got chosen as a regular, while the rest are from the third year. So… I heard from my friends that whenever I made a wrong move, the seniors would boo me, laugh, and say things like ‘oh my God, the flawless ace made a mistake’. Fortunately, the first years and the second years would be there to remove all my worries. I was particularly close to those who were in the same grade as me and I would always share what I felt to them. They were there to support me from time to time, um… yeah…”

“What’s wrong?” Kei’s aware that my voice falters near the end of my sentence and at the same time, my eyes rapidly wander to everywhere but him. I don’t need to see my own reflection to be sure that I look perturbed.

“Nothing… just realizing that I’m… quite a hypocrite. I told you not to do things, but I’m doing exactly the same. Sorry.” I tuck my hair behind both of my ears, my fingers tremble slightly. “During the semifinal of the All-Japan Tournament in my second year, I did eleven jump serves at the end of the second set and we won. It was probably one of ‘the moment’ that you were talking about just before. People went nuts. I couldn’t even go home with my team because I had to do many interviews. It was insane. The next morning, the third years were being extremely hostile. I didn’t know what I did wrong, but for sure, I couldn’t handle their sick behavior anymore. When we were in the bus, I told them that I don’t want to play for the entire match so they would understand that they’re incapable without me.”

“Wait, did you say the last part? About that they’re incapable without you?”

I nod my head twice, slowly bringing my eyes back to Kei. “I shouldn’t have done that, right? But I was mad…”

“Hm… Your words did seem arrogant, but you were right about them not being able to do anything without you.” Kei lets out another sound of displeasure. “Let me guess, they hated you even more? Did they throw rotten eggs at you? Honestly, what’s wrong with them?”

“No… More like the entire bus was dead silent, except my coach and advisor who tried to persuade me to play, but my decision was final. In front of me, no one dared to speak out their mind, so my teammates were totally mute all the way to Sendai Gymnasium,” I apprise Kei that—thank God—nothing severe happened. “Then I really wasn’t called as the starting player. I was quietly sitting on the bench between my coach and advisor. The whole arena was shouting my name, asking on why I didn’t play because we miserably lost the first set. We could only score nine and most were because of the opponent’s fault.”

“Nine? Were they that weak without you?” Kei seems to be dumbfounded, so I rock my head up and down. This time, my eyes don’t go anywhere.

“We were very mediocre. We could only be in the top sixteen without me,” I answer before giggling as I remember another thing. “It’s funny because Kageyama just mentioned about this subject before we started our practice. He said that people thought I injured my legs. I wish that was the case. Physical pain would be better than mental… but in the end I felt bad, so I entered the court during the second set, when the opponent’s score was twenty-one and ours was seven. Sadly, the gap was too wide, so we lost when we hit thirteen. I was only playing for ten or fifteen minutes.”

“You scored six in such a short period of time?” Kei’s tone elevates greatly.

“Hahaha. Don’t be shocked. I told you, Kei. This girl has walked through pebbles and needles.” I proudly point at myself with my thumb. “But, anyway… after the closing ceremony was over, we were packing our belongings in the locker room and I was confronted by the third years… and also by all the second years, as known as people who I thought were my friends. They said that I have a bad personality, that I think too highly about myself by saying that they can’t win without me, but ironically, they also said that they lost because of me. Like… which one? They got angry because I said that they couldn’t win without me, but then they said that they lost because I didn’t play. They were so submerged in negativity that they couldn’t be consistent. They didn’t know what they were talking about.”

“Hang on. I don’t get it.” Kei confusedly frowns. “The second years also disliked you?”

“It appeared that they did and they used the time when I said that they’re incapable without me as the reason. Yeah, right. Only peace-lovers without brain will believe that. After all, it’s unlikely for people to admit that they’re jealous. It’s like murderers giving themselves to the police.” I fold my legs up, resting my hands on my knees. “I won’t claim that my heart was made out of steel because… I was hurt. When I made a mistake, they blamed me. When I did something great, they blamed me. They could experience the semifinals and finals because of me, but they didn’t feel grateful. I didn’t need them to thank me, but at least respect me and don’t be jealous like that. But let me be honest—I was more hurt because I thought my friends were against what the seniors did to me and I found that it was no more than a façade. I felt betrayed.”

Kei deeply sighs as his left hand hops to my head, stroking the surface gently and lovingly. I know he wants to calm me down and to nonverbally soothe me, to assure that I won’t have to endure such thing ever again, but instead of feeling elated, this brings out the gloominess inside of me. I thought I would be fine because everything has happened years before and lately, I’ve been surrounded by great people like Yamaguchi, Kageyama, Hinata, or the managers from other schools. Yet somehow I know that being with Kei always makes me feel so secure. That’s why it seems alright to be frail sometimes, because I’m just a little girl who’s in the middle of growing up.

“Then what happened after?” Kei demands me to proceed with my story while still enjoying the glossiness of my hair.

“Well… I didn’t say anything after they told me all of those stuff. The first years didn’t say anything either. I was hurt, but I felt it was useless to try to defend myself because I was outnumbered and deep down I knew, these people still needed me for the team. In the end of the day, I was the star. Just like you stated before, I already won since the beginning because I was the celebrity.” I tug one corner of my lips, forming a smirk. “When we were out of the locker room, I was greeted by Goshiki and his teammates. I grabbed Goshiki’s hand and ran from all the reporters with the rest of the boys. We went to this empty gym and because I was too broken, I told them everything. They knew that the seniors mistreated me because my so-called friends and I used to laugh about that, but they didn’t think that my so-called friends would backstab me. How many times have I said ‘my so-called friends’?”

“Only two. Go make it three,” Kei responds and I reform my smirk into a smile.

“That was the first time when I got very close to Goshiki. The first years in my club tried to cheer me up several times, but I kind of ignored them. This is why I said that I’m a hypocrite… kind of…” I grab Kei’s hand that’s on top of my head and carry it down to my knees. “I saw Goshiki and his friends. They weren’t fake, they never talked bad about the person who wasn’t there, and I chose to be with them when I could. There were two who were in my class, so I hung out with them all the time.”

“What about the girls in your class? Didn’t you have other friends?”

“I still talked to the girls in my class, but I wasn’t close to anyone like I was to my teammates. Listen… It’s not like I’m anti-girls. I don’t mind talking to them or buying ice cream after school like what I do to Yachi and Kiyoko-senpai. I simply don’t want to open up like I do to you. I want to prevent the same case of disloyalty from happening again. There’s a quote that says that women understand women, but they hate each other. That’s valid. Most girls that I know are always gossiping about each other, but the next day, they’ll go to cafeteria together and label themselves as best friends forever. I don’t find that in Goshiki and his circle. At least, not yet. Not even here. Not even from you or Yamaguchi,” I elaborate on my reasoning. “…wait, am I being sexist too?”

“Sort of, but that’s fine. You’re also a girl, so it’s normal if you don’t know what you want.”

“Hey! I’m different!” I hit Kei’s chest while narrowing my eyes, acting like I don’t appreciate his sentence. “I didn’t really feel resentful afterward. I went to the club like usual, but I was always alone. I didn’t talk at all to my so-called friends—three times, Kei—and I only spoke when it’s needed to my juniors. That happened until my last year of middle school. Among all the third years, only me and two other girls who stayed, as the rest retired. I got chosen as the captain. The situation got better because none of my juniors were that jealous of me. They… admired me.”

“So, first year was the rising action, second year was the climax, third year was the falling action—”

“Or resolution… or not really, because I had my accident… Remember…?” I interject, bringing my lips closer to Kei’s left ear to make my words more dramatic because I can be theatrical at times. “I was in coma for almost a week and hospitalized for two months, including one month of rehabiliation. So many people came to visit. Goshiki came almost every day. Everyone from Aoba Jousai who used to attend Kitaiichi came at least once a week, especially Kageyama… then Iwaizumi-senpai and the other one.”

“The other one.”

“Yes. The other one.” I can’t contain my laughter so I just let it out until I get enough of it. “I was never lonely because people would bring me so many dolls and balloons, but guess what? None of the third years from my club or the seniors who graduated came. Well, it’s not like I expected them to.”

“Seriously?” Kei looks mortified. If those girls were here, I wouldn’t be shocked if he would punch their nose. But I would mind because I don’t see the point of him dirtying his hands for those mindless animals.

“Hey, that’s fine. I had one hundred people who cared, so I didn’t bother myself too much with the minority. They probably threw a party somewhere to celebrate my loss. Their hatred overtook their common sense, Kei.”

“Tsk. I don’t know what else to say. If it’s two out of ten who hated you, then sure, but almost all of them?” Kei shakes his head in disbelief. It’s rare to see him being tense like this, but it’ll more questionable if he doesn't feel any emotion. Kageyama and Yamaguchi would also react this way if I told them the truth about my past. It’s because they hold me dear.

“I got a bit unlucky back there.” I give Kei a broad grin, a real one. “And you know… among everyone in the boys’ team, only Goshiki got a scholarship to Shiratorizawa and no one got jealous. I asked some of them about how they felt to see Goshiki being better in so many aspects and they said that they were happy for him. What a difference between, am I right? It sucked that I lost my scholarship from Shiratorizawa, though.”

“Did all of these schools really cancel your scholarship?”

“Not all… That’s what the media reported… I got more than twenty offers from prestigious schools all over Japan. Itachiyama from Tokyo and Niiyama from Sendai kept my scholarship… and I don’t remember who else.” I flap my right hand in front of Kei’s face, eyes straying away once more. “But yeah, Shiratorizawa did.”

“Did you want to go to Shiratorizawa with Goshiki?”

What?

Don’t I want to be with Goshiki?

I grit my teeth, attempting to gulp down the heartache that comes with Kei’s question. “…the number one reason why I wanted to go there was because of him. That was the best school in his list. So… yeah…”

Haltingly, I lower head, hiding my face by laying my brow on my knees and hugging my joined legs. My hair obeys the gravity, thus it helplessly falls to cover both sides of my head, not providing Kei any opening to peek inside. He does try. He swipes my hair sideways, but I quickly smack the back of his hand. He retries, but for the second time, I remain immobile. Again, I let him do whatever he wants and at least he knows that I’m not crying. I’m only sad because I miss Goshiki and perhaps everyone else in Shiratorizawa. I don’t need to name each one of them, do I?

“Why are you being extra sensitive today?” Once again, he lightly caresses my head. “And sorry that I used to mock you about Shiratorizawa cancelling your scholarship.”

“I’m fine,” I convince him and my voice sounds very nasal from all the compactness between my chest and legs.

“What a favorite quote of yours.” Kei’s hand moves down to my nape, yet again straightening my hair, but now only with his palm. “So, you never contacted your teammates after you graduated?”

“The only friend from middle school that I’m still contacting is Goshiki. If his teammates want to LINE me, I won’t mind to reply. They’re nice.”

“Only Goshiki?” Kei increases his tone by a semitone. “What about Nanako? You’re chatting her every day, more than you do to Goshiki.”

My heart nearly stops beating when I realize that I almost spill out the truth about Nanako being nothing more than my own make-believe to hide my relationship with Ushijima from anyone. I’ve either read an article or watched a video that explained the easiest way to know whether someone is a liar. One of the points was that people who lie would mistakenly say that they bought an apple, when previously, they said it’s an orange. They tend to forget what they’ve said , hence one day, they could be dumb and accidentally reveal the truth. I almost had that.

“Uh, yeah. Nanako was my classmate from when I was in the third year, not my teammate. Sorry for the blunder,” I successfully lie before lifting my head and glancing at the round clock in this gym. “Kei, it’s almost ten! We won’t get any dinner! Let’s go back now!”

“I don’t mind not having dinner. I won’t eat that much, anyway,” Kei remarks as I move my feet away from his, so both of us can rise from the ground. I’d love for him to do it first and offer his hands to pull me up, but I remember that I don’t like any pain on my left shoulder. I’m not masochist enough for that. I too need to give a salute to him because I almost forget my Pocari, but he unintentionally reminds me from grabbing his own Fanta.

“Hey, you should eat more! You’re underweight! Go gain another ten kilograms!” I slap Kei’s back and I’m terrified to make him shatter into pieces. One thing that I fear the most will be to witness his entire spine sticking out, like he’s a skeleton model or something. I don’t know if some people are born with that shape or it’s just because they’re too skinny. For Kei, I’m sure the latter is the right answer and I consider that to be very unhealthy. I can write down one thousand words to depict how grossed out I will be.

“If you want to be fat, be fat alone. I won’t be amazed if you’ll get twice my size next year,” Kei grumbles, but then he does something contradictory to his harsh words. He embraces me by tightly wrapping my back before letting go to walk ahead. I facepalm. What kind of gentleman is this? Kind, but not much? Kind, but shy? Kind, but mischievous? He doesn’t fit into any category.

When we’re out of the gym, our surrounding is soundless and the air feels a bit cold—which is uncanny, considering we’re in the middle of blazing summer. I take a moment to enjoy the unvarying view I’ve seen for the past four days. There’s nothing new about this. There are no fireflies roaming around. The sky is still pitch black with no glitters or sparkles. Yet oddly enough, I feel whole and content. After four nights of tension, now I feel that there’s no more hole inside my chest. Then when I look back to the front, to Kei’s white t-shirt that’s a tad wrinkled and the fabric that follows the shape of his shoulder blades, it feels like once for all I figure myself out more than I thought I did. I understand everything better than before.

“Kei,” I faintly call the name of the guy two meters ahead of me.

“Hm?”

“Hey, wait for a moment. Look at me,” I plead as I stop my feet and he promptly does me the favor with eyes staring deep into mine, piercing through the darkness around us. “Um, you don’t know this, but… I’ve been asked by so many people about the reason why I stay with you. I’ve been wondering about that too. Why would someone like me want to be with someone like you? You’re horrible, churlish, disrespectful, stubborn, childish, totally ill-mannered—”

“Stop. I get it. I’m the worst human being ever, so what’s your point? Make it quick,” Kei warns me for going off-topic. It’s not like I intend to because the clock is ticking and I need to consume at least a piece of banana to help me sleep. There’s literally no way I can survive the night when my stomach growls like it’s a jungle full of lions.

“Yeah, I guess I have the answer.” I smile, keeping my hands behind my lower back and clasping them together. “You always give me this troubled face whenever I want to complain about my problem, but you sit in front of me and you listen attentively, without even checking on your phone or doing something else. You say that you don’t want to help me carry heavy stuff, but ultimately you do it without me having to ask. You criticize every single thing I correctly do, but then you pat my head, you hug me, you buy me my favorite drink… and you let me copy your homework… and… um, I don’t like not having you by my side. It seems wrong, like last week when you didn’t ride the train with me. It was… an unfamiliar sight and I don’t want that… You won’t leave me again, right?”

“Stop using ‘again’. I already made it clear that I never left you. I just didn’t see the point of waiting for another two hours before I could go home.” As expected, Kei has to prove himself right. “Next time, I won’t mind waiting, unless if you irritate me for the entire day, which you always do.”

“Ah! Does that mean you’ll practice more?” I shroud my face with brightness and glee.

“We’ll have summer practice and of course I’m obliged to practice more with all of you. You’re a manager, at least know about our schedule.”

“That’s not what I meant!” I squeak, expanding my eyes because of how moronic Kei can get. “I mean what if I have to be with Azumane-san for another two hours like before? Will you wait? You will, right? You will! You have to!”

“I already said that I won’t mind waiting, deaf. Why do I have to keep repeating that? The size of your thighs doesn’t match your brain.” I don’t think it’s necessary for Kei to make fun of my body shape, but then I realize that I did the same to him just under five minutes ago. Meaning, it’s unfair for me to pummel his scrawny body, even if I want to. He can die. I’m not kidding.

“Fine, fine,” I murmur as I give him my right palm. “Now hold hands.”

“What?” Kei seems bewildered, but I bet he’s faking it. It’s not like this is the first time our hands intertwine each other. What is he ashamed about?

“I want to hold hands,” I repeat my request, a bit louder this time.

“Is that a proper way to ask?”

Simultaneously, I roll my eyes and click my tongue. “Kei, can we hold hands? Please?”

“Declined. I’m not your dog.” Kei turns around and walks away, leaving me behind like a heartbroken maiden. I don’t understand what’s the connection between courteously asking to hold hands and treating him like a dog. I just wish that it would rain anytime soon, so this scene will look more like a music video. Beautiful, yet melancholy.

“What are you doing? Come here.” It’s not even a blink of an eye when Kei suddenly stops moving and checking on me over his shoulder. “Tsk… and then you’ll accuse me for leaving you, even when it’s you who didn’t want move. Meathead.”

“Oi, stop creating a rude nickname for your beloved girl!” I leap forward, quickly linking our arms together and soon enough, my right hand finds its way down to enlace with his. “Yay.”

“What ‘yay’? Airhead.”

“Skin-and-bones.”

“It’s not like you have a voluptuous body of a swimsuit model.”

“At least I’ll survive apocalypse because I store more fat in my body than you. I won’t die from starvation.”

“You can’t run from zombies if you’re too fat and what if you have to pass through a small alley? You won’t fit.”

I snort to give an emphasis that Kei’s theory is baseless. “I’ll have more energy to run than you and again, I won’t die first. Just admit that you have zero knowledge about zombie apocalypse.”

“Why would I need to study about something that will never happen? And sorry, but I know things and that’s why I’m sure that you will die earlier than the rest of your group. You know why?” Kei laughs at his impending words. “Because zombies eat brain and you don’t have a brain.”

“Hey, I’m smart! I always get at least seventy for all my tests! I’m in the same class as you—ah! Never mind!” I don’t know what’s going on, but all of a sudden, I become too lazy to speak more than this. Maybe it’s because of my empty stomach and sleepy head.

“What was that? I won?” Using the bottom of the can in his right hand, Kei nudges my cheek several times. I glance at him, only to find that he smugly smiles, as if he’s achieved a medal for beating me in the topic of whether being fat will make me die in the first episode of a zombie apocalypse TV show. Trivial, child-like, but I have to say, it’s entertaining.

“Huh… Anyway, don’t forget that the payment of my story is still on hold,” I remind Kei about what I said before I told him every part of my past. “I don’t know what you have to do… so give me some time to think about it. Okay?”

“Up to you. Just be normal. I get depressed from all your high expectations.”

I giggle all the way to the cafeteria and we don’t separate our hands until two steps before we open the door. I’m overjoyed to be with Kei.

* * *

It was just a joke when I thought to myself that I would only get one piece of banana. I need carbs, proteins, and greens like a normal well-balanced person, but when Kei and I enter the cafeteria, there’s no one inside besides the three ladies and the plates of dinner that have been cleaned even before we arrive. I want to cry for the second time today, but Kei pats my back and blames me for not checking the time—because according to him, it’s my mistake for talking too much when I could just answer his question regarding of what happened during the second year of my middle school. He grabs and peels one banana for me, calls me a monkey, and I just accept my fate. I devour four of them, while he only has one for himself. I don’t care what people say when they see this, but I’m starving.

Together, we rush our way back to the main building because we must take a shower and perhaps do some other things that can take more than half an hour. We part ways on the second floor as Kei needs to go to his room and I still have another stair to climb before I can get to my own. There are some familiar faces that I see throughout the hallway, but here’s the thing—if that person isn’t Kuroo with his hair down or Akaashi with his daydream look, there’s zero chance for me to stop doing what I have to do. In this case, it’s to wash the dirt all over my hair and body. Also, to meet whatever awaits me in the dreamland. Any time soon. Any time.

“Ah! How was it with Tsukishima-kun?” Yukie vivaciously squeals, just after I slide open the door of our room. I notice that there’s only her who’s lying beneath a blanket with a phone in hands, so there’s a high probability that the rest are still in the shower room. If I hurry, I think can catch up with them, which means that I don’t have to be alone in such a vast area.

“Did Yachi tell you?” I ask as I step inside and close the door behind, heading to my travel bag.

“Yes. So, you got back together?”

“Hm, we never broke up.” I unzip my bag, taking out my phone and turning it on. I never broke up with Kei because I was never dating him, but I don’t see the benefit of going through all the troubles of telling Yukie any of that.

“That’s good. Don’t fight again, okay? He’s a cool guy, you should marry him.”

I half-heartedly laugh at that advice, but I don’t retort back because my focus is entirely taken by the screen of my phone. I let it load the things it needs for one to two minutes before I open my LINE. I know that I’m going to get messages from two people—Goshiki and Ushijima—and I evidently do receive some. Since I’m sure that the former is already in the process of sleeping, I must give the little time I have to the latter. With him, I don’t even need to blink because he always reads my chat like the last thing he wants to do in this short life is make me wait.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Good morning. Have a nice day 6:48 AM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:18 PM Ushijima-san~_  
_10:18 PM_   
_10:18 PM Are you there? What are you doing?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Hello, I’m here 10:18 PM_

See? An ultra fast reply that always forces me to smile with relish.

 _Ushijima_  
_I’m studying a bit while waiting for you 10:19 PM_  
_10:19 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:19 PM Ho? What are you studying?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Geography. I’m only reading some books 10:19 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:19 PM Hahaha, you’re very sweet (and smart and hard-working too)_  
_10:19 PM_   
_10:19 PM_ _Anyway, I need to take a shower now and roll out my futon_  
_ 10:19 PM I’ll chat you tomorrow morning, is that okay?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_You haven’t taken a shower? Why? 10:19 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:20 PM Yes, I had something with someone_

 _ Ushijima _  
_What does that mean? 10:20 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 10:20 PM I was with Kei and we had a long talk_  
_ 10:20 PM In short, we’re good now_

 _Ushijima_  
_Ah, I see. I’m happy for the two of you 10:20 PM_  
_10:20 PM_  
_I hope he won’t make you sad again 10:20 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:20 PM Yes, hahaha_  
_ 10:20 PM I hope for that too_  
_10:20 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_So we won’t be able to have a call tonight? 10:20 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:21 PM Um, yeah, I don’t think so. I only have less than 50 minutes to do everything_  
_ 10:21 PM I don’t want to not take a shower because I’m smelly_

 _ Ushijima _  
_What about tomorrow? 10:21 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:21 PM Hm… I think I can, but I’m not sure_  
_ 10:21 PM I’ll chat you when I have the time_  
_10:21 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Are you going to spend time with Tsukishima Kei again? 10:21 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:21 PM I don’t know_  
_ 10:22 PM Tonight I was actually practicing with Kageyama, but who knows about tomorrow…_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I see 10:22 PM_  
_I don’t know why I’m feeling weird 10:22 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:22 PM Feeling weird? What’s wrong? Did something bad happen during your night practice?_  
_ 10:22 PM I can stay for another five minutes, so I’m here if you want to share_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No, it’s not about my practice 10:22 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:22 PM Then?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I just want you to stay a little bit longer with me 10:22 PM_

Unconsciously, I squeeze my phone. It’s not like I’m having a heart palpation and there aren’t any butterflies in my stomach, but I do feel like there’s something tingling my chest.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Sorry, that’s too much to ask, isn’t it? 10:23 PM_  
_You have things to do. Don’t let me hold you back from doing what you want 10:23 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:23 PM That’s fine_  
_ 10:23 PM I’m sorry too_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No, you’re not doing anything wrong 10:23 PM_  
_I’m the one being selfish. I’m sorry 10:23 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:23 PM Selfish? When?_  
_10:23 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Because I want to keep you from finishing your duty 10:24 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 10:24 PM No, you’re never selfish, Ushijima-san_  
_ 10:24 PM You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met in my life_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Is that so? 10:24 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:24 PM Yes, really!_  
  
_10:24 PM Ugh, that duck ruins everything_

 _ Ushijima _  
_That’s a chick 10:24 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 10:24 PM A duck -.-_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No, I Googled some time ago 10:25 PM_  
_[[Sent a link.]](http://line.wikia.com/wiki/Sally) 10:25 PM_  
_It’s a chick 10:25 PM  
_

_Me_  
_10:25 PM_   
_10:25 PM You’re right!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_You’re very adorable 10:25 PM_

 _ Me_  
_10:25 PM Am I?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Yes. I really like it whenever you’re around 10:25 PM_  
_I like talking to you even more than anything else 10:25 PM_  
_That’s why I want to spend more time with you_ _10:25 PM_  


If it’s other people who say this to me, I’ll take their words with a grain of salt. Some may aim to flatter me so they can get their way into asking me a favor—like getting a scholarship from my parents or knowing their phone number. Some may say it as nothing more than a chit-chat to kill some time or to make me like them, which brings it back to the option number one. But Ushijima Wakatoshi? He will never lie to me about stuff like this. His heart is that kind.

 _ Me_  
_ 10:26 PM Ushijima-san, I’ll definitely call you tomorrow night, okay?_

_Ushijima  
Will you cam again? I’m sorry that I want to see your face 10:26 PM_

_ Me_  
_ 10:26 PM That’s fine! There’s nothing apologize! I will cam!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Promise? 10:26 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:26 PM Promise!_  
_10:26 PM_

_Ushijima_  
  _10:26 PM  
Okay. Don’t you have to go now? I’ll be waiting patiently for tomorrow night 10:26 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:26 PM Okay~_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Take care of yourself and please sleep well. Don’t tire yourself too much. I don’t want you to get sick 10:26 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:26 PM You too_  
_ 10:27 PM Don’t study too hard, it’s summer break, so go rest or play some game_

 _Ushijima_  
_I will. Good night 10:27 PM_  
  _10:27 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 10:27 PM Night~_  
_10:27 PM_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APRIL FOOLS’ JOKE! I WON’T GO INTO HIATUS!  
> I know I’m a week too late, but I really wanted to contribute. Let’s all be happy, yeah? Don’t be mad. Ah. I suck. (〃＾▽＾〃)
> 
> Anyway, I want to talk a bit about the heroine of this story:
> 
> So I’m actually pretty new to HQ since I just watched the anime last August and I didn’t read the entire manga until last October or November. I also never knew that an xreader story existed until I searched for HQ fanfics as what I found were usually xOC. Long story short, I was bored with my life and I decided to write this series.
> 
> When I was crafting the plotline, I got a bit lost about the heroine/reader. If I would give her a distinctive personality, some readers would say “ugh, I can’t relate because I won’t behave this way!”. If I would make her very clumsy and simple, but is being loved unconditionally by Tsukki and Ushi, many more readers would say “ugh, the reader is so stupid and mary-sue, I can’t stand her!”. In the end, I knew that what I wanted to make was a role model—a character that feels alive, makes mistake, apologizes, and has some good/bad things about her (and that’s basically how I create every character for my job).
> 
> There are only two things that the heroine and I have in common; we don’t care that much about romance and are quite blunt. Other than that, she’s a better human being than I wish I could ever be. She’s very brave, very patient, very independent, and there are fifty other things that I can’t write one by one here. She’s like the female version of Rick Grimes that will do 360 no scope for at least 20 times a day, while I’m just a minor background character who’s trying to look relevant in front of Daryl Dixon, in hope he’ll love me as much as I love him. :')
> 
> …why did we talk about TWD? I really like Negan, though. The most charismatic villain ever.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading until this far! I’m so grateful and I hope you’ll stick around until the end! Have a nice weekend! ♡♡♡


	34. A Morning Lecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But, wait, I want to announce one more thing!” I lift my index finger, taking the attention from all the seniors near me. “I prefer a chapel-style wedding because I want to wear a white gown.”
> 
> “Oh my, can’t you shut up?!” Kei groans and when I look at him, he rolls his eyes like he’s already planning a scheme to murder me tonight. Hilarious and that’s why I can’t stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, does anyone miss me? No? Okay. ;_;
> 
> Anyway I’m craving for Oreo ice cream, but they’re always sold out in the convenience store near my house. What should I do? I want nothing else. :'(
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Oi, what’s going on? Am I still dreaming? Tsukishima, why are you eating that much?”

I hold my laughter and try the best I can not to choke on the food inside my mouth when Tanaka stands in front of me with eyes as wide as kittens. He gives the blond who sits to my right a good five seconds of unconvincing gaze before he drops his tray on the table and seats himself on the long chair. He doesn’t immediately proceed to grab his chopsticks or something else because his entire attention is still being taken by Kei—or to be price, thirty percent by Kei and seventy percent by Kei’s plate that’s full of rice and _teriyaki_ chicken, the same as what everyone in the cafeteria has. The significant difference is that this amount is double the size of what Kei had yesterday and all the days before that.

A smile is formed on my lips as I glance sideways at Kei who’s only chewing in silence before shifting my eyes to Tanaka who’s still unbelievingly staggered by the current view. “Tanaka-san, I can explain… Yesterday before we went to bed, I did him a special favor and charged for a fee. Since he couldn’t afford anything to make me happy, I offered him an alternative by eating more breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“You know, that sounds so dirty!” Kei snarls, his voice comes unclear because of all the things he hasn’t swallowed down, but that uneasiness makes everything so much funnier.

“What’s dirty? I don’t know where your mind is going, Kei,” I tease Kei with a chuckle, even when I actually understand the meaning behind his words. I could’ve said the real reason—in which Kei wanted to hear about my past and for that, I asked him for something in return. I could’ve also shortened the sentence by simply saying that I told him to eat more and this morning he easily obliged. Unfortunately for Kei, by me being myself, there’s no way I won’t dramatize my story to squeeze a bit fun out of it.

“Hahaha. Does it have anything to do with the scar?” Tanaka questions me, referring to the long red line on Kei’s left cheek. Just like what I assumed last night, my nail leaves an apparent discoloration on Kei’s skin. I don’t want to worry myself that much since I know that it’ll disappear over time. If I have to estimate, it’ll take less than a week.

“Not really.” I shrug, eyes drifting down to the _teriyaki_ chicken on my own plate. I quite like this dish and that’s why I only took less than five tablespoons of rice and a lot of meat because I’d rather be full of the tastier one. I didn’t allow Kei to do the same because rice is very high in calories and that’s perfect to help him gaining some kilograms. I just hope that he won’t puke during practice because then my effort will go to waste.

“Hey, hey, listen to your _senpai_.” Tanaka beckons his hand to both Kei and me and we don’t have any other option but stare at him. “Okay, so… I’m sure you two are going to fight again next week, but that’s fine because I’m also sure that a year after you finish college, you’re going to get married and have four kids. Just mark my words.”

Tanaka’s words tickle my entire body, so my very first reaction is to cackle, mouth open wide. I look at Kei who doesn’t seem to be that impressed by Tanaka’s prediction of our future because his eyes are straightaway going back down. Tanaka himself chooses to let go of this topic as he chugs a glass of cold mineral water before stirring his plate, mixing his rice with all the delicate sauce from the _teriyaki_. Is it wrong when I think that it’s the only way to eat something saucy? It’s like having pasta, but not coating every single layer with the marinara sauce. Carbs in general are bland, so it’s just stupid to not put anything on top of it.

“By the way, Kei.” Right after my mind is no longer focusing on all my opinions about food, I slant my body to my left and whisper—not to prevent anyone from hearing what I’m about to say and creating any unnecessary scene, but just to make my words seem so serene in Kei’s ear. “I’m just wondering… Don’t you think having four kids is a bit too much for us?”

“Wh—tsk. Why are you still talking about this? Stop it.” Kei tries to elbow my side, but I quickly bend my body backward so his skin won’t have the chance to reach me. I notice how he curls his lips so cutely and frowns to show his displeasure of my intention of prolonging this topic. The first gesture isn’t something he often does, unless when he’s incredibly shy about something. Talking about our imaginary children appears to be one of them.

“What about the name? I think almost everything goes well with Tsukishima, but do you want to have boys or girls? I think two boys and two girls are the best. Hm…” I go quiet for a moment to ponder hard about nothing because I just want to play around with Kei, I want him to think that I’m seriously considering the possibility of us being married in seven years. “We should choose something that has connection with firefly, moon, light, moonlight, star… or basically anything from the galaxy?”

“Why are you so deaf lately? Have you cleaned your ears? I told you to stop,” Kei warns me, but somehow I know that he won’t hurt me like the second night we were here, so I opt to keep going.

“What about Tsukishima Hoshino from ‘star field’ for a baby girl and Tsukishima Kou or Kouki from ‘light’ for a baby boy?” I suggest the first two names that pop in my mind. “But wait… Now that I think of it, Hoshino is too mainstream… I have at least five friends with that name. What do you think, Kei? Say something.”

“Shut up!” Kei exclaims before taking another mouthful of rice and chicken. Now I hope that he won’t be the one to choke.

“Tsukishima Mizuki is also nice.” Sugawara who sits diagonally from me suddenly joins us and it’s not like I complain since he adds nothing but more entertainment. “The meaning is beautiful moon. _Mi_ from beautiful and _zuki_ is modified from _tsuki_ , which means moon.”

“Oh, Mizuki! I love that!” I nod my head rapidly like a rooster. I’ve never personally known someone with that name, so it’ll be wonderful if my daughter will be the only one in her school to bear that.

“And what about Mitsuko? The meaning is child of light.” Comes the next suggestion from Tanaka who has devoured quarter of his plate only in less than three minutes. I wish Kei who tends to eat as slow as a sad koala could be more like him, but that’s just a wishful thinking. Getting him to bite one cookie is already taxing, let alone telling him to devour faster. Perhaps he will if it has strawberry and frosting in it? What an absurd guy.

“Not Mitsuko.” Much to everyone’s surprise, this time Kei voices his mind. “That’s my mother’s name.”

“Ah! Finally, Tsukishima is giving up his fight!” Tanaka points at Kei’s face with the chopsticks in his right hand and I have to laugh at how comedic Kei’s expression has become, so I do it loud. Even Sugawara and Sawamura who sit next to each other feel the same need to chuckle a couple of times. Truly, there’s nothing funnier than Kei being reserved, but then not really.

“Anyway, let’s just stop. Tsukishima looks like he’s going to explode if we continue,” Sugawara advises us and I kind of understand his sentence. It’s not like Kei will go on a rampage and flip our table—he’s too cool and weak for that—but he’s been eating his food very slowly ever since we talked about this specific topic. Previously, he ate slowly. Now it’s very slowly. See the major difference? That’s pathetic.

“But, wait, I want to announce one more thing!” I lift my index finger, taking the attention from all the seniors near me. “I prefer a chapel-style wedding because I want to wear a white gown.”

“Oh my, can’t you shut up?!” Kei groans and when I look at him, he rolls his eyes like he’s already planning a scheme to murder me tonight. Hilarious and that’s why I can’t stop.

“Yes, covered in Swarovski is even preferable, Kei. Since I’m a princess and a princess deserves glitters. I too want an eight-tiered wedding cake. I don’t care what flavor, but the icing should be white with gold decorations… maybe pearls, flowers, and butterflies? We can discuss the food furthermore. Thank you for listening,” I speak for the last time, followed by Tanaka who shakes his head while giggling, presumably from approving my splendid design of the wedding, but also wondering why I’m being this ambitious.

I grab my glass that’s only half full of water and consume everything all at once. Before I bring the plastic container down on its previous place, I glance at Kei who’s still struggling to finish his food. I can’t quite describe what I’m currently feeling with words or other forms of art, but is it strange that I sort of believe that everything I’ve said can really happen someday in the future? I can imagine myself wearing a strapless white lace wedding gown with Swarovski either scattered on the torso or on the bottom part of the waving fabric. An open back sounds alluring, but I don’t think Kei will like it if I exhibit my skin too much—he won’t admit it, but he’s very protective of me. Then, I’ll walk down the aisle, with my father beside me and Kei will probably wear a white suit because black doesn’t match his fair skin and blonde hair. What about our wedding rings?

“Uh, yes… This is definitely weird,” I murmur to myself, sweeping away the diamonds, carats, and platinum off my brain.

“What?” Kei asks, head titling at my direction.

“No… I just thought that… marrying you doesn’t seem that bad…” Once again, I position my lips to be right beside Kei’s ear, but this time the volume of my voice is extremely low, all because I don’t want anyone else to perceive my words. “Though I think our wedding is so unrealistic. I don’t mean to be rude, but most likely you’ll die from being too underweight before we graduate from high school.”

“Tsk. Cut it out,” Kei growls in exasperation, throwing his chopsticks to his plate. “I’m already eating more for you. If you keep talking about this disgusting and irrelevant fairytale, I won’t give you what you want.”

“Eh?” I raise my eyebrows, smiling broadly enough for Kei to see. “You’re doing this for me?”

“Don’t be big-headed. It’s so you can zip your mouth and stop bothering my life for once.”

“Hahaha. Is that really the reason?” I tap Kei’s back quite roughly, but fondly. “But I’m telling you to eat more because I want you to be in a good shape. How lovely of us to do something for the sake of each other?”

There’s no more reply from Kei, but from the way he pouts before picking back his chopsticks reassures me that he feels the same way about us. Maybe not the part about him wanting to marry me because I don’t think there’s a human being patient enough to compliment his awful personality. It’s about us being two dumb teenagers who are willing to accomplish anything to bring each other happiness. That may sound a bit like an exaggeration for him, but at least it’s a reality from my side. And just how much I adore this guy? Perhaps numbers and infinity aren’t enough to measure my affection.

* * *

Kei and I leave the cafeteria later than the rest of our group since I need to make sure that he swallows the last grain of rice on his plate. I have a feeling that if I’ll take my eyes off him for only a minute, he’s going to do something unquestionable like giving half of his food to the kind-hearted Yamaguchi or purposely dropping his plate to the floor below. With me monitoring every move he makes, he won’t have a chance to cheat his way through. Sadly, everything always comes with a consequence because on our way to the first gym, he can’t stop whining about how his stomach is so bloated and that he’ll get sick if he jumps too much—to which I riposte with the fact that volleyball doesn’t require many movements, unlike football or basketball.

“Ah, Tsukki! Hime-chan!”

I’m barely ten steps away from the cafeteria’s door when I hear Kuroo gleefully shouthing my nickname. Simultaneously, we look to our left and there I see the guy walking with both hands inside his black shorts. He’s so tall and his frame is quite big. Combine those two with a striking hairstyle and a sassy gesture when he strolls so leisurely to our direction, and we have art. I’m too enchanted by what lies in front of me that it takes me some time to realize that he too uses the short version of “Tsukishima”, instead of something else. How close have they gotten since they practiced together? And why do I feel a bit hurt from this?

“Can you please stop staring at him like that?” Kei glares at me and for the first time in my life, I’m kind of relieved that he doesn’t squash my cheeks to make me look like a dying fish or hurt me physically in any possible way.

“What? Go blame his face.” I promptly snort in defense of myself and Kuroo’s entire existence. I think it’s even weirder if someone doesn’t take a second glance at that Nekoma’s captain when he walks into a room or when they bump into him on a street. Those people are either a very straight male, a very gay female, or a very loyal partner that’s been vowed not to notice someone else, even only for a split second.

But no, it’s still so unacceptable in my eyes. There’s simply nothing rational enough to reject a beauty.

“You’re so cheap.”

“Ssst, he’s coming closer!” I crush Kei’s right arm, hiding half of my body behind the guy without any particular reason, except that it’s a reflex from being exceptionally nervous.

“Eh, Tsukki? What’s wrong with your cheek?” Instead of chatting to me first, Kuroo chooses to inspect Kei’s face. “Oh? Let me guess… Did somebody slap you during a love quarrel last night?”

“I don’t really know myself. Maybe you should ask that somebody?” Kei answers nonchalantly and my heart almost stops beating when Kuroo inclines his body sideways, trying to take a good look at me who’s conceal myself even further from him. I hope he doesn’t find me odd or socially inept.

“Hime-chan? Are you a cat?” he throws his first question, smirking so gently and that one trademark of him can’t be compared to anything else in this world. Other than that, I don’t know how to elucidate that his gesture right now is very unhealthy for my organ. I can internally bleed.

“Eh? Uh, no…?” My hands travel to Kei’s back, gripping his white t-shirt like I need to prevent myself from falling, but still careful enough not to rip any seam since I don’t want to anger the owner.

“Because you’re more like a dog who can’t quit barking,” Kei mutters an insult, but I don’t react at all. If Kuroo weren’t here, I would yell and kick his legs, but since Kuroo’s here, I want to portray something ladylike. I don’t care if he’s known my true my nature—in which I’m rarely considered as an elegant woman from the way I speak and behave—but I believe that what I’m doing now isn’t that pointless in term of building my good girl image.

“How sweet.” Kuroo’s smirk changes into a smile as his right hand rises to stroke the back of his head. “Anyway, Tsukki, don’t forget to practice again with me tonight.”

“Yes.” It’s amazing and bizarre to witness Kei agreeing on an invitation to have an extra practice. Yamaguchi did tell me that his best friend has suddenly changed and I too notice that, but let’s just say that I’m still not used to it. I need some more time. Maybe weeks because Kei has left quite an impression of laziness for months now.

“Does Hime-chan want to join us too? I heard that last night you practiced with your setter. Why don’t you want to do it with me then?” I don’t know whether it’s only an act or not, but the way Kuroo frowns so unhappily manages to melt my disposition. The reason why I wanted to help Kageyama was because he’s an old friend and a clubmate. The reason why I refused Kuroo yesterday morning was because I didn’t think I would be good enough to be in a team. Now that I contemplate on my decision, it does feel like I’m being so inequitable to the latter who’s been so kind to me, Kei, and everyone else in general.

“Um, I will, Senpai. Kageyama and Azumane-san don’t need my help anymore. They’re good on their own,” I utter my decision ever so smoothly that it startles me a bit. Kei himself seems surprised—shown by how he expands his eyes and gaze at me over his shoulder—but the fact that he doesn’t give any objection is enough to ensure me that he doesn’t mind seeing me spiking and running all over the third gym. After all, the time when he lectured me for playing volleyball was mostly because of what Bokuto said about us not being compatible. Perhaps the part where he didn’t want me to be tired was only twenty percent of everything.

“We’re going to play three on three again tonight,” Kuroo informs me of something I’ve heard from Kei and some other people. “But I want to play against you, so you’ll have to be in the same team with Bokuto, Akaashi, and the Shorty. Your boyfriend and Lev will be in my team. Is that good? You told me that you’re used to play with male players way taller than you.”

“That’s fine, but please don’t be too hard on me. I’m also not that useful because I can’t block anything and can only receive with my right body…” I scratch my nape that’s not even itchy. I think I just feel sheepish from the plan of playing for real this time and it’s with boys, not girls. I’m excited, but on the other hand, I fear if something savage will happen.

“No, are you crazy? Don’t you dare to receive anything.” Out of nowhere, Kei snaps and I automatically widen my eyes in wonder. “You’re surely going to whine if you hurt yourself and that’s irritating. My ears will bleed, so don’t.”

“Hahaha, Tsukki… why are you being like this? If you don’t want her to hurt herself, then just say it that way… Why do you always keep your real feeling to yourself? People can misunderstand,” Kuroo playfully accuses Kei and obviously, the blond ignores him as his eyes are locked with mine, he tries to give me a fair warning to not be that reckless. I find this scene to be funny that it stimulates my need to laugh, but Kei looks so grim until I don’t want to flip the negative switch in his unstable emotion. Though really, I wish I could praise Kuroo for feeling the same way as I do—that Kei is never too good in hiding his real motive of protecting someone, especially me.

“Then it’s set,” Kuroo affirms our plan. “See you tonight—”

“Excuse me. Can I have a second with the two of you before the morning practice begins?” Kuroo hasn’t finished his sentence when I feel a poke on my left arm, hence I instinctively look back to find Takeda standing behind me with a sour face. When I realize that Kei is doing the same, I instantly have a bad feeling about this.

“What’s wrong, Sensei?” I’m glad that Kei’s the one to ask on behalf of us.

“Just come with me,” Takeda sternly orders us as he turns around and walks onward to somewhere I can’t foretell. With him being this serious, I have no reason to decline his request—and also, I’m curious of what I’ve done. Before I take the first step to follow my teacher, I send my goodbye to Kuroo and give him my promise to be there to meet him after our last practice is done.

* * *

Takeda brings us to an empty spot behind the cafeteria where we just had our breakfast. All the way here, none of us say any words because my mind is going to all the possibilities of what unforgivable mistake I’ve done until I’m called like this and Kei seems to ponder about the same thing. The trip itself only takes less than a minute, which doesn’t give us enough chance to speak to each other. I don’t know whether I should be grateful that it’s happening so fast or be anxious because my heart isn’t ready to welcome whatever will be told to me.

“So, I just got a report from one of the securities here.” My heart skips a beat when Takeda begins his speech, his eyes staring deep into mine and sometimes to Kei’s. “He said that last night, he found you spending time with each other at the second gym… in an indecent pose.”

“What?” Both Kei and I squeak at the same time. We’re too shocked to even look at each other.

“Yes. The security said that you…” Takeda points at me before moving his finger to Kei. “…were sitting on top of him and cuddling like a married couple.”

“What?! No! Sensei! That’s not true! We were only sitting next to each other like normal friends!” I wave my hands near the sides of my face , attempting to make Takeda believe in me, but there’s a greater chance it won’t happen. Adults tend to believe other adults. In their eyes, kids are always harebrained. Maybe the only smart kids for them are those who literally have won a mathematical olympiad. Maybe.

“Normal friends? I saw you two being too close to each other with my own eyes. Even if the security fabricated the truth, I know it myself that sometimes you’re being too intimate for young age,” Takeda reprimands me as he holds his own one-sided point of view of the whole situation. “I don’t mind if my students are dating, as long as it doesn’t affect their grades. You two have good grades. You’re far from being troublemakers, but please don’t do something like that, specifically here, when people from other schools can see you. Also, this isn’t our own building. Please don’t disgrace the name of Karasuno. We’ve always had a fine reputation.”

Okay, I despise whoever told all of those lies, but Takeda himself is being incredibly hyperbolic. I want to explain about the fact that Kei and I aren’t dating, but I know that I’ll aggravate his monologue even more than needed. He’ll scold us about how inappropriate it is to touch each other albeit not having a committed relationship. Simply put, I’m not going even to try that route. I don’t want to ruin my good mood for the entire day by soiling my morning with an uninteresting and untrue drama like this one. I’d rather fake a seizure, therefore I can excuse myself for good.

“And I also heard about what happened three days ago, when you yelled at each other shortly after the practice ended. That wasn’t nice to see. Even the coaches and teachers from other schools know about this,” Takeda continues, now folding his hands in front of his chest. “I don’t know what else to say, but I’m sure you grasp my point. Don’t do stuff like this anymore.”

“We’re sorry, Sensei. We won’t do it again.” Once again, Kei takes over the conversation with a more subtle approach. He glances at me and I take that as a hint for me to say my portion of apology.

“Yes. I won’t repeat the same thing during this training camp, Sensei,” I guarantee Takeda. If he tries to reprocess my words, he’ll fully comprehend that what I meant is only this one summer training camp in Shinzen. I can’t promise him that I won’t do the same when we’re back to Miyagi. It’s not that I’m lecherous, but sometimes I’m doing things to Kei unconsciously out of habit and same rule applies to him.

“Good.” Takeda rocks his head once. “If I hear or see something like this again, I’m going to call your parents and report everything you’ve done.”

I gasp before yelping for the third time today, “Sensei, we’re not little kids! We don’t need that kind of threat!”

“Then don’t do it. You’re still underage and if you watch news, there are many teenagers who are doing irresponsible acts that destroy their future. Please understand my concern. I don’t mean any harm,” Takeda speaks in such a rigid tone and manner that I know it’s useless to go any further. “And it’s getting late. You should go back to the first gym.”

Without expecting any retort from his two students, Takeda leaves the place, perhaps back to the main building to search for the phone numbers of our parents. I wait for him to be at least five meters ahead before I gaze up at Kei who’s apparently been doing the same thing earlier to me. It seems like we’ve always had some sort of telepathy or the ability to read each other’s mind, but even then, I can’t suppress myself from wanting to speak out what I’ve been thinking since the moment Takeda opened his mouth.

“Oh, man! That’s so awkward!” I loudly remark, putting my hands on my hips with so much stress. “Imagine if I did sit on top of you, probably the story would escalate into we groped each other and some more! I hate these kind of people! But come on, who don’t?!”

“Yeah… that’s uncomfortable…” Kei sighs. I suppose he’s also feeling out of the place from what just happened.

“Let’s not do stuff like this when we know that people can see. Yesterday we stayed when everyone already left, so the securities must assume that it was okay to lock all the gyms. We didn’t know that one checked on us because we were too absorbed by something else.”

“You put your legs above mine. Maybe that’s why he took it wrongly. Very wrongly.” Kei rubs his forehead as his eyes are darting somewhere behind me. “Let’s just go back and don’t talk about this to anyone, not even Yamaguchi. Keep it a secret between us only.”

“Yeah…” I smile dimly and begin to move my feet, while Kei is following closely beside. “Anyway, I forgot to ask, but can I borrow your earphones tonight?”

“For what? You can’t sleep with music, can you?” Kei interrogates back and I find that to be very normal. Sadly, I can’t provide him the real answer—that I need them to have a video call with Ushijima. It’s going to be very dark with minimal lightings, thus I can’t go too far from where everyone resides because it’s creepy. The thing is if I don’t have earphones with me, I need to put Ushijima in a loudspeaker and I can’t afford anyone to overhear us.

“Um, I want to watch anime and I don’t want to disturb the others, you know…” I give Kei the easiest lie because music doesn’t seem to work.

“But you know I can’t sleep without music because everyone will be hyperactive until eleven. I sleep earlier than them,” Kei replies with something very reasonable. He’s complained a lot of times about Hinata, Tanaka, and Nishinoya who can’t keep their voice down, plus Sawamura and Sugawara who’ll tell them to shut their mouth. I don’t need to be there to have a perfect visualization of how deafening the room can get. I do feel bad for the lethargic Kei who wants nothing but sleep. I won’t like it either to be bothered from closing my eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right…” I clasp my hands in front of my stomach, struggling to find another solid reason. I must craft a credible story that will make Kei think that his earphones will have a better use in my hands. In all honesty, I don’t think I can find one. Should I say that my cousin just gave birth and she wants me to see her baby? It would’ve worked, had I not told Kei about wanting to watch anime. Dumb me, all because of my restlessness.

“Don’t the other managers bring earphones with them?” Kei jumps to another logical question.

“No, I haven’t seen one…” And luckily, this time I have the answer.

“Then just wait until you’re home. The anime will still be there, no worries,” Kei replies so ignorantly that I want to sob.

Well, who can be blamed? It’s all my fault. I promised Ushijima without thinking about finding earphones beforehand and I should’ve known that Kei wouldn’t lend me his belonging that freely. I’m one hundred percent positive that Ushijima won’t get upset if I can only show my face that’s shrouded in darkness, but I’m also sure that he’ll be sad in some way. And I don’t want him to be sad.

“Kei, I’ll borrow them for only a moment. You’re not going to sleep exactly at ten, right? You still need to take a shower and do other things. I’ll give it back when you have to sleep. Ten thirty maybe? Please Kei?” I’m feeling funny. Who would’ve thought that one day, I’m going to beg Kei to lend me his earphones for the sake of calling another guy? This seems wrong, but I guess I’d rather stoop this low than hurt someone as kind as Ushijima.

“What kind of anime that you want to watch until you’re this desperate?” Kei sounds skeptical and no wonder why. “Or do you even want to watch anime? It seems like you want to do something way different than that. Come on, just be honest with me, then perhaps I’ll lend them to you.”

“Okay, fine.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, preparing myself to give another lie, sort of. “I need to call my friend. She seems to have a family problem and last night she told me that she wants to see my face during our call tonight. That’s just it.”

“Who? Nanako?” Kei guesses, one eyebrow raising up.

“Yes, it’s Nanako.”

“Then why did you lie to me in the first place? This isn’t something that important. Silly,” Kei softly knocks my head with his knuckle. “I’ll lend you until ten thirty.”

“Yeah, I don’t even know why I did that, but thank you, Kei,” I say before chuckling several times, hoping that nothing looks phony—not my facial expression, not my tone, not my movement, nothing. I also want to apologize to every Nanako who lives in Japan because for the millionth time, I use them selfishly to save myself.


	35. When They Are The Hunters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’s your shoulder? Does it hurt?”
> 
> “No.” I almost choke on my own spit. “It doesn’t hurt at all. I’m wearing a shoulder support.”
> 
> “Huh? Who gave it to you?”
> 
> “I bought it myself, just before I went here.” For the millionth time today, I fabricate the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meow~
> 
> I was done with what I had to do (so far), so I’m getting a break now. Maybe for several weeks. I plead guilty, I was playing games and that delayed this chapter even more. XD forgive me
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

When the last match of the day ends and I’m all ready to leave the first gym to the third, I reach out my hand with the intention to interlace my fingers with Kei who stands in front of me. Thankfully, it’s quick for me to draw back my arm as I realize that Takeda is still around—behind me, to be exact, and that’s all the reason why I’m not sure whether he’s monitoring every single gesture I make or not. Kei doesn’t seem to notice, but Hinata who’s walking beside me does. I do expect the orange-haired to question my gawky movement and when no word comes out of his mouth, I feel relieved.

“Hey, I’m so excited that you’re joining us tonight!” Hinata shouts a new topic, just after we step outside of the gym’s entrance. I remember that I didn’t tell him anything about this, but I bet Kuroo or Bokuto did. Other than that, I guess it’s quite important to note that Nekoma and Fukuroudani have finished their set ten to fifteen minutes before ours, so those seniors must’ve been waiting patiently for us to show our face. Everything should be fine because it’s barely eight p.m. and it’s not like we need half an hour to arrive at their place.

“Hahaha. Yeah. I hope I don’t get in anyone’s way,” I respond calmly as I feel a gust of nightfall wind brushing against my right cheek. Around me feels colder than usual, but I’m sure that there’s only five percent chance it’ll rain. I don’t know why rain can be very unpredictable as it will often come when the air is warm and stuffy, not cold and cloudy like how it’s supposed to be.

“No, you won’t! You’re so cool! You rarely make a mistake!” It appears that Hinata can’t get enough of complimenting me nor can he control his irrepressible excitement of playing in the same team with me. “And also, we can beat Tsukishima together!”

“Yeah, just try. You two are no more than witless little kids.” Kei looks over his shoulder and slants his body a tad so he can take a good look at my face and Hinata’s, but at the same time, I don’t want him to do that because I can’t appreciate the way his lips form an obnoxious smirk. I’m thinking of retorting by calling him arrogant and not skillful enough to judge us, but that’ll be very contradictive to what I stated yesterday—that he’s way more useful than Hinata. Only I may be better than him, although I understand that it’s always unwise to compare the basic strength of two different genders.

“Oh, shut up! We’re going to beat you today!” Hinata rudely points his finger at Kei and I don’t blame him for behaving like that. Sometimes Kei really needs a butcher to chop his tongue. Perhaps losing the inability to speak will be the only way to lessen his redundant mockeries that’s only useful to rile people.

“Hahaha. Right. If a dwarf is going to triumph over my team, it’s because he’s helped by some humans,” Kei discourages Hinata, as if the latter has never contributed anything during an official competition. “And I don’t know which one is more pathetic, the boy who’s smaller and shorter than the girl or the girl who’s bigger and taller than the boy.”

“What?! Just watch us, Tsukishima! You only got that tall body and nothing more! It’s not like you’ve managed to kill block Bokuto-san!” Hinata squeaks for the nth time in the past five minutes and in all honesty, if I were him, I would just let Kei say whatever he wants to say. I know that once in a while it’s crucial to knock some sense into him, but of course only when it’s very necessary—like when he told me about his eccentric point of view of not wanting to deliver his best because everyone will eventually fail. Right now, he’s merely teasing us.

“But even if she’s the most powerful wing spiker in Tohoku, blocking a girl is a piece of cake.”

I snort contemptuously, eyes sharply meeting with Kei’s. I have zero intention to counter his standpoint with anything because it’s baseless and—yet again—extremely sexist. Volleyball is a sport. A sport is a physical activity. A physical activity needs to be shown through action, not words like we’re bargaining or disputing. Just like what Hinata said a moment ago, Kei should be careful of being attacked when he least expects it, with the techniques he’s never encountered before. When that happens, he’ll be totally embarrassed by his own ignorance and I’ll laugh along with everyone else.

* * *

“Hime-chan!”

As anticipated, the first sight that welcomes me to the third gym is Bokuto standing in the middle of the court with arms opened in enthusiasm, as if he wants me to leap and embrace him. I only look at him once before shifting my vision to Akaashi who’s placidly holding a ball behind his captain. Then I notice Kuroo who’s tapping his phone while leaning on the wall to my left. The Nekoma’s captain glances at me without lifting his chin and for whatever reason, that small thing looks so sensual. If I’m not strong enough, I might have a heart attack—not that I mind. Last but not least, I see Lev stretching his long legs beside his senior.

“Hime-chan, we’re going to be in the same team, aren’t we? Aren’t we?” With his ear-piercing voice, Bokuto asks something he’s known all along. I suppose he just wants to have a conversation with me, so I kindly respond with a faint nod as I walk closer to him with Hinata, while Kei is being called by Kuroo—and how I envy him for that.

“Bokuto-san, don’t get in her way, okay? You can be too aggressive.” As soon as I stand in front of Bokuto, Akaashi implicitly reminds him that I’m a fragile glass, thus he should keep his distance. A soft bump against my body will be okay, but it’ll be savage if I get harshly shoved away. No matter what, I’ll definitely collapse since Bokuto is the bulkiest among everyone here. We’ll create the same almost-bloody scene between Azumane and Hinata. He’ll be Azumane and I’ll be Hinata.

“I know! I know! You have nothing to worry about! I want to see you spike live too, so I’m going to give you enough space to do whatever you want!” Bokuto folds his arms in front of his chest and he stares deeply into me. “Yesterday our team won three out of four sets. Since we have you with us, I’m very optimistic that today we’ll win them all!”

“Thank you,” I say with a smile, being flattered at Bokuto’s admiration of my skill. “But question? Isn’t this grouping a bit unfair? I mean… three against four? And everyone there is a middle blocker…”

“They’re the tallest among us, so it can be tricky playing against them,” Akaashi answers me, eyes darting to those I mentioned. “Kuroo-san and Tsukishima are very sharp. I think Kuroo-san will give you the most trouble because he’s constantly able to block Bokuto-san. He’s one of the best blockers I’ve ever known.”

“Huh, yes. You should be very careful when you’re head-to-head with Kuroo.” Seems like Bokuto doesn’t want to thoroughly praise his close friend from another team, but he doesn’t want to lie to himself either. I know that feeling. I’m sure almost everyone does, even though only a few will admit.

“Ah, also yesterday I did quite a good block-out. I hit Lev’s fingertips and scored. You know… like what Little Giant did.” Hinata takes back my attention to him. “I think it was just a fluke because I couldn’t do it anymore, but it was a nice feeling to be able to do something cool like that. I heard from Bokuto-san that you’re very good at it. Do you have any tips?”

“Block-out is what I always use whenever I’m against huge blockers. When I was in the first year of my middle school, I was only one hundred fifty centimeters and my opponents would be third years who were one hundred eighty or more. It’s crazy because their blocking range was so wide,” I explain Hinata while playing back all the hardships and accomplishments from when I was still an official player on a court. “But I hardly ever aim it to their fingers, especially if they’re very smart and agile like Kei or Kuroo-senpai. I’m not that powerful, so it’s pretty risky. There’s a ninety-five percent probability of them shutting me down in a matter of second.”

“Then what would you do instead?” Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I see sparkles on Hinata’s eyes. I bet he’s been tattooing a note of my words on his brain. Syllable by syllable.

“Aim it to their wrists or the areas below that, so the ball will come back to our side. Do you realize that blockers tend to only move their hands and not their arms because they’re afraid to touch the net? Like Kei, for instance. He does that a lot. Though they’ll have monstrous control if their entire arms are above the net, which is impossible, unless if they’re three meters high.” I raise my left hand, pointing at the wrist with my other finger.

“But isn’t it also risky, Hime-chan? It’s incredibly difficult to block-out onto our own side like that. It’s easier when the ball falls on the other side like what Hinata did yesterday. Only an angel can succeed on scoring that way,” Bokuto joins the chit-chat, arms still in the same position as before, but now with an addition of wrinkling his forehead in uncertainty. “And what if they’ve gotten used to that technique? Kuroo said that he’s watched some of your videos. He might know about this habit of yours already… and Tsukki is so good at reading someone else’s movement. Well, Kuroo too, but your boyfriend is really something.”

“Eh? Is it really that hard?” I lift my eyebrows, feeling puzzled because ninety-nine out of one hundred times, I can always nail this kind of block-out, regardless which gender I’m battling against. Perhaps now it’s only ninety-five out of one hundred since my body isn’t the same as before, but it’s still categorized as something beyond simple. Even animals can do that.

“It is hard, but you’re insanely competent, so I’m not surprised at all if you consider something like this to be easy…” Akaashi mutters and I give him a warm smile—I want to say warmer than the sun, but that’ll be exaggerating since the sun is scorching.

“How about a rebound? Do you use the same technique? Yesterday Bokuto-san did one and it’s so cool!” One more time, Hinata seeks for my opinion.

“Ah, for rebound, it’s the best if you aim the ball at the blockers’ fingertips so it can bound back and high, enough for your setter or anyone else to connect it, but just like what I said before… it’s risky because they could easily slam it down. If I aim it to their wrists or arms, most likely the ball will go down too. Your libero can pick it up, but it’s going to be difficult. I think even Noya-san will have a hard time handling that.” I exhale a long breath, suddenly getting a bit exhausted for all the speeches I make. “It’s a hassle. Better not when you’re not sure, Hinata. Just pass the ball to the other side and regroup once it’s back to your side.”

“Roger that!” Hinata salutes me, although I’m not entirely sure if he’ll listen and play according to my preference. As a player, he’s very unforeseeable and he enjoys experimenting things out, even when there’s only a small percentage he’ll thrive. I guess it’s okay as long as we’re still here in a training camp, where we won’t lose anything major if we fail. If he does the same during Spring High, I swear I’m going to punch a hole in his skull.

“And what kind of toss that you want?” Akaashi questions something very important that I almost forgot.

“The same like Hinata will be good,” I reply concisely. I’m a bit taller than the aforementioned guy—maybe four or five centimeters—which means that I can handle the same toss as the one given to him. It’ll be within my reach and we can always adjust from there.

“Okay, I understand.” Akaashi nods his head and I smile at him again. Seems like I can’t stop myself from reacting this merrily because of how poised the guy in front of me is. The way he talks is short and sweet, unlike Bokuto. He too seems cool-headed, unlike everyone in this room, including myself. His entire attitude is a bit akin to Kawanishi’s, but he’s more talkative. He gives me a vibe of someone warmhearted and there’s no way that I won’t treat him the same way—or even better.

“Hey, owls.” Simultaneously, Hinata and I turn our body one hundred eighty degree, looking at Kuroo who’s walking toward us with Kei and Lev trailing behind him. “You’re ready?”

“Are you ready?” Bokuto throws the same question back, emphasizing the middle word to indicate that it’s Kuroo who should reassure himself a million times before we begin trouncing him. I can’t quite grasp what’s going on after, except that Kuroo and Bokuto start bickering about who’s better—which is absurd since they hold on two different positions—and Akaashi is just there, peering at his two seniors with a mirthless look. It doesn’t take that long for Lev to walk toward those three and Hinata to add another layer of the loudness. Since I don’t find a place among the boys, I opt to drag my feet closer to where Kei stand alone.

“What’s wrong with these volleyball idiots…?” As soon as I’m near him, Kei grumbles a complaint and I giggle at his remark. This isn’t the first time we see people being overly high as a kite over volleyball, but I know that for Kei, a view like this isn’t what he prefers to have on a daily basis. He’s always been a guy who wants tranquility more than anything.

“Anyway, Kei…” Instead of prolonging the topic about our friends, I raise and spread my fingers in front of Kei’s face. “See, I’ve cut my nails this morning. Why didn’t you ask?”

“We ate next to each other this morning, so I knew,” Kei briefly replies.

“Oh? Well, then at least you know that I did what you told me to.” I clench my fists, but before I bring them down, Kei snatches my left hand, squeezing it quite hard that it startles me a bit. His facial expression that promptly changes from normal to dead serious makes everything seems even more scarier.

“Listen. Don’t try to receive or block anything.” His voice comes out velvety and I shiver from head to toes at his rare gentleness.

“Um, I know, I won’t. You warned me already. Yesterday nothing bad happened when I played with Kageyama,” I convince Kei. I know that today is different than yesterday. I was spiking alone without having to worry about my left or right and now I’m in a team where people can collide with me, but everything will be okay. I know it will.

Kei narrows his eyes, maybe feeling unsatisfied with how relaxed I can get. “But you’re so deaf. I bet there are bugs living inside your ears.”

“What? Are you really saying that to me? It should be the other way around.” I shake my head, chuckling ever so slightly. “I understand. Kei-chan doesn’t want me to hurt myself. I won’t. I promise. You can hit my head if I do reckless stuff.”

“I don’t care. If you hurt yourself, it’s your problem, not mine,” Kei scoffs as he finally lets go off my hand. I can only sigh to that, even though deep down I hope that there’ll come a day when he’ll realize that he’s never a good actor like me or other people around us. He can’t even hide five percent of his own feeling, let alone making me believe that he doesn’t care about my well-being.

“Last night you told me to cut my nails because I could hurt myself. Do you think I’ll forget that?” My sentences may sound like a tease, but I do mean it. It won’t be too shocking if the next time we quarrel, I can’t get too upset like before because my mind will keep reminding me about all the nice words he’s uttered. Those memories will be replayed over and over again.

“Shut up for once.”

“Huh… You can be so strange at times…” I mumble, clapping Kei’s back twice before gazing at the swarm of boys in front of us who are still conversating with each other about the same subject as before. They all seem to have a great plan up their sleeves to defeat one another. I don’t really want to declare this out loud, but I swear to myself that I won’t lose to any of them.

* * *

With rock, paper, scissors, Kuroo easily wins against Bokuto, which means that his team gets to serve first and mine is going to receive. Bokuto unceasingly whines over that small loss as he stomps back to stand roughly two meters to my right. I believe Akaashi has his own unique reaction to this specific behavior, so I look behind me to witness the mentioned guy heaving a long sigh while putting both of his hands on his hips. Should I gift myself a piece of cookie for correctly guessing this? Seems like I’ve gotten to know a lot about Akaashi, merely from his recurrent bone-tired-of-life demeanor.

“Okay! Here we go!” Kuroo positions himself behind the end line of his side, dribbling the ball in his hands before serving it normally. I always see him doing at least ten jump serves a day, so maybe he’s too exhausted to do more or perhaps he considers this free practice to be just a game where everyone should learn while having fun. I can totally relate to that feeling, but it doesn’t mean that I should loosen my shoulders too much.

I don’t think Kuroo has an absolute control toward his serve like some marvelous players I know, so I think it’s just a luck that the trajectory of his ball goes to Akaashi, instead of me who’s prepared myself to hide behind Bokuto and use his body as a protection. Swiftly, Akaashi manages to bounce the ball up with his exemplary overhand receive and gives it to his captain, to then set it to either me or Hinata who stands on my right. Before anything goes further, I glance at the other team. The three giants are already gathering in the middle area just behind the net. Their stances are solid that I’m afraid Hinata won’t have a chance to go against them, height aside.

“Bokuto-san, right!” I beckon to Bokuto as I run to the right side of the court. He knows what I mean, hence once he gets the ball, he tosses it far and high with a little bit of a yelp that sounds hilarious. Hinata himself gives me enough space by jumping backward a couple of times, although honestly, he doesn’t need to do that.

“Go, go, go! Careful!” Kuroo who stands between Kei and Lev leads the entire line to the left—or right if it’s seen from my perspective. Their colossal physique can’t hide the truth that I look like a small crab and they’re the whales, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t find a way to strive. Just like I’ve mentioned a thousand times before, this isn’t my first time going against boys who are way taller than me.

When I see that the ball above me is descending perfectly to where I stand, I jump, only a second before the three boys in front of me do the same thing. Lev doesn’t seem to know what he has to do besides spreading his arms, so I look at him, hinting that I’m going to spike to his direction. Kuroo seems to read what I’m about to do because he quickly shifts his sturdy arms the right with a purpose to aid his less-experienced junior, but I smile before angling my arm to the other side and slamming the ball against Kei who doesn’t expect me to strike his way. The strong blow against his body results in the ball falling onto my side, accurately landing only less than five centimeters outside the sideline.

“Yay!” I gaily clap my hands because I just secured the first point for my team. Although I’m very satisfied of my performance, I’m more thrilled about the fact that I just scored a real thing after ten months of hiatus—the days with Azumane and Kageyama aren’t counted because I didn’t really play in a team like right now.

“Whoaaa, that block-out is superb!” Bokuto’s the first one to scream, followed by Hinata and Lev who roar about the same thing and Kuroo who’s a bit calmer, albeit still hysterical like they’re all in a mission to ride a roller coaster while having to shower me with praises.

“But why did you twist your hand like that?” Hinata asks, attempting to imitate what I just did with his right arm. “Ugh, this hurts! How could you do that?! You’re so awesome!”

“Thank you, Hinata. I did that because if I were to slam the ball straight to Lev, there would be a ninety-nine percent probability of it falling to the middle of our court, instead of to the right. It’s because of the spin, the gravity, or however you want to call it. It’s quite difficult for me to do an inside block-out like that from this side,” I sheepishly admit my struggle as I stare respectively at everyone in this gym, but mostly to the guy who just questioned me. “I mean, I prefer to spike from the left side. This side is usually for those left-handed players.”

“Oh! Like Ushiwaka?” Hinata responds in awe, his lips are parted and his eyes are glistened like stars. But I have no idea why my heart skips a beat or two when hearing Ushijima’s nickname name being mentioned by someone near me after such a long time. The last time was when Kageyama and Hinata told everyone stories about how they coincidentally met him on a road. It was more than a month ago, perhaps six weeks, and doesn’t that mean that I’ve known him for quite a while now? Seems like my mind is flying farther than needed.

“Um, yes…” I shortly validate as I try the best I can to act natural.

“Ushiwaka does a lot of block-outs too, doesn’t he? I watched his videos and also him playing live before,” Bokuto adds, extending the conversation that I wish to let go off soon. Half because I want to continue playing, half because I’m terrified to speak too much and accidentally reveal my current relationship with that number one male ace in Miyagi.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about him. Only his name,” I apprise everyone, excluded Hinata and Kei who’ve heard me stating this before. The sole and major difference is that I told the truth then and I tell nothing but a lie now.

“Eh, really? I thought you were at least friends with him! I mean you two are the best aces in your prefecture and the age gap isn’t that wide either!” Bokuto lifts his eyebrows, making me gulp out of panic.

“No, we’ve never talked to each other…” I shake my head before turning myself back to the front, gazing up at Kei who’s just staring back at me without any certain expression framing his face. “Anyway, shall we continue the match?”

“Oh, right!” Bokuto says for the last time and unconsciously, I let out a long breath.

The thing is I’m thankful that we won’t talk about this matter any longer, but somehow, my heart is aching. I guess it’s all because I can picture Ushijima being awfully sad if he hears that once again, I refuse to acknowledge the good times we’ve spent together. I know this shouldn’t matter much as long as no one outside those regulars from Shiratorizawa finds out about us, but for how long should I keep this as a secret? Until I graduate from high school? No. I’ve met him several times and I’m sure we’re going to see each other again. Eventually, people will find out and then they’ll bother me more than I can handle.

I don’t even understand myself anymore.

* * *

“Why are you so good, Hime-chan?! You can fake many things before you spike—your eye contact with us, your posture, your pace, everything! Just why are you so good?! Now I’m really in the need to rest and do some self-observation on why I can’t block you at all!” Forty-five minutes haven’t passed when Kuroo suddenly concedes defeat as his eyes drift away from mine to Kei and Lev’s. “Good luck, you two. I’ll treat you the best _okonomiyaki_ in Tokyo if you can block this girl. Don’t give up.”

I don’t know whether I should pity or laugh at his decision, but I think he did a pretty decent job. I’ve given the chance to spike for more than fifteen times and even though none of them got blocked, sometimes I had no other choice but to blast through the blockers with a normal method. Three out of my four try, Kuroo was the only one who could reduce my momentum with a soft block. I also need to watch out for Kei. It seems like he gets less hesitant to move and with the intelligence he has, it’s just a matter of time before he’s finally able to block me. Usually, I’ll get furious when someone steals a point by doing that, but since he’s a different case, I’ll shed a tear of happiness instead.

“I want some rest too! Just fifteen-minutes, okay?” Much to everyone’s surprise, Bokuto excuses himself.  He’s very excited about this whole practice—only second to Hinata—so no wonder if this is something I don’t expect to happen.

“Are you sure, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi who stands on my northwest seems uncertain too.

“Yes. I want to check my phone. My little sister might be missing me,” Bokuto nonchalantly confirms as he walks to Kuroo who’s now sitting on the sideline, among all the blue bottles and white towels scattering on the floor. It takes no time for them to be seated next to each other. People don’t need to ask anyone to know that these two are more like brothers than friends or even rivals.

“He has a little sister, huh?” I murmur to myself because Bokuto surely looks like someone dependable with several younger siblings to take care of. He may be loud and annoying, but there’s something mature and calming about him. Maybe because of the way he can be so positive like a motivational speaker? Yes, I can imagine him protecting his sister and run after the boys who break her heart on purpose, then give them an hour long of lecture on how to be a gentleman.

“You’re not going to rest too, Lev?” Before we proceed, Kei asks the guy beside him.

“No, I won’t! Not until I block her! Even once is satisfying enough!” Lev vows to himself. I can’t help but snigger at him, who I see as a rough diamond that only needs to be polished. By far, I’ve never met a guy this tall who’s also in the same grade as me. Even those professional players from my parents’ teams are usually only about the same height as Kei. I know that one day Lev will reach two meters, but then again, volleyball isn’t all about height. Sure it’s such a great asset to have, but everything is pointless if there’s no technique involved.

“Um, Lev?” I call the name of the mixed-race guy for the first time in my life. “I don’t want to reveal the trick on how to block me because I don’t even know it myself, but can I give you another advice?”

“Sure! Give me all kinds of advice!”

I point at Lev’s legs and his eyes drift down to follow the course.  “I’ve been keeping an eye on you… and I notice that you like to land on one foot. I know sometimes we can’t help and automatically do it, but it’s dangerous. You can injure yourself. No one else’s doing it here except you, so please change that.”

“Oh, okay!” Lev rocks his head in affirmation. “Is there anything else?”

“Hm, not to you, but… I guess I should say that I really enjoy Akaashi-senpai’s tosses.” I look at Akaashi. “They’re so easy to hit and precise, but still give me a lot of choices. Say… Do you want to go to my mother’s university? I can recommend you to her.”

“Wait! What’s that, Hime-chan?! Why not me first?!” Bokuto exclaims from the sideline, his hands are already busy with his phone. Should I reveal the conversation I had with my mother two weeks ago and how she already rejected him with an unexplainable reason? No, I suppose I should wait until the perfect moment comes. Maybe it’ll be never.

“Let me think about that. It’s still a year after this, so who knows if something will happen?” Akaashi wears a serious face and it’s not like I’m joking with my words. I won’t blatantly say that I’ve had this in mind since the first time I saw him, but right here, right now, I kind of feel that I don’t want to lose the chance of getting a setter this good to boost my mother’s career. Or at least he can go to my father’s, which is not too bad either.

“Wait, Akaashi! Don’t decide that quickly!” Bokuto pleads with cracked voice, he seems so desperate and mad that his own setter has leaped further than him.

“What are you talking about, Bokuto-san? No decision has been made yet. I’m still a second year. Let’s focus on winning Spring High before anything else,” Akaashi composedly responds before sighing. “Let’s continue. We only have half an hour before we need to clean up.”

“Okay!” Lev and Hinata shout almost at the same time, while I take my time to walk from the back area to the front side of the court and position myself on the left. Since Bokuto isn’t here, it can be said that I’m the only scorer available. Hinata can also rack up some points for us, but I need him to block our opponents because no one else can do it.

“Kei, Kei, Kei.” I poke the net that separates me and Kei. “When will you be able to block me? You said that blocking a girl is super easy, didn’t you? Aren’t you ashamed? Want to apologize? That’s fine, my big heart will always forgive you.”

The blond smirks conceitedly, as if he tries to deter the girl whose capability is evidently above him. “No, because ultimately I will.”

“Oh, really? When will it be? In five years?” I tease him with a faint chuckle. “Or after Mizuki is born?”

“Who’s Mizuki?” Lev innocently interposes us.

“Tsk. Stop. Why are you bringing this again?” Kei shoos both me and Lev before stepping away—I swear he’s in fact embarrassed, but of course, he chooses to conceal the blooming redness on his cheeks. “Lev, it’s your turn to serve.”

Lev nods his head as he grabs a lying ball near his feet and walk to back of the court, just behind the end line. I’m a bit nervous because this person can’t really serve and overall, his style is worse than Hinata who’s already the worst in Karasuno. It won’t be a problem if his serve will falter before it reaches my side because that means the point will be for my team. In Lev’s case, sometimes his serve will go in, but it’s so wobbly that we have no idea where he’s aiming at and since there are only three of us, we all need to blindly disperse to receive it.

“Hinata!” Just a second after Lev performs his unstable serve, Akaashi and I scream at Hinata, telling him that the ball will get to him, instead of us. I don’t want to be that big-headed, but Hinata is very lucky to be able to play with the me, Akaashi and Bokuto, simply because we’re national-level players. I never officially went to any national tournaments because of my accident, but I was listed to attend.

“Okay!” Hinata bends his body to send the ball to Akaashi on his left who’s already well-prepared. “Akaashi-san!”

“Here you go!” As if he’s been my partner for years, Akaashi flawlessly tosses to me.

“Okay, here we go!” I run to follow the ball and once I’m sure where to hit, I jump as high as I can. Different than before, I see Lev carelessly spreading his arms too wide and he makes everything so much easier for me this time—because I effortlessly spike between the gap of his arms. Not even a block-out.

“Yay!” I sing my victory, while Lev is becoming grumpy because of losing for a dozen time from someone thirty centimeters shorter than him. Kei himself can only shake his head, maybe finally acknowledging that he really needs to wait until Mizuki is born to score by completely blocking me. If no other plan will be made near in the future, then that means he has to wait approximately ten years from today. What a taxing journey to take.

“Ugh… What did I do wrong this time? Please tell me!” Lev groans as he claws the net in front of him, looking so desperate to fix himself. How could I ever dislike someone this passionate about volleyball?

“She spiked between your arms.” Kei’s the one to answer the obvious question before I get the chance to. “You know the reason why she could blast through you. You’re a middle blocker, so be extra careful with how you position your arms.”

“Oh, you’re right… I’m sorry, Tsukki…” Lev solemnly accepts his own weaknesses as he appears to blame himself for not being good enough among the rest of us. “And thank you for helping me improve. I just played volleyball when I started high school and I still have so many things to learn. I really want to be an ace, so it’s nice to get personal advice from a well-known ace like you.”

“Oi, I’ll become an ace first!” I thought it was a bit odd for Hinata to be quiet for more than a minute and I was right.

“It doesn’t matter who’s going to be first, but I will, Hinata!”

“But ace position is exclusive for a wing spiker,” Akaashi drags Lev and Hinata back to the grim reality. I’m not saying this just because I’m an experienced ace, but these two should develop a lot more than this before they can get near that title. From what I’ve seen so far, I think it’s easier for Lev because he’s taller, stronger, and slightly smarter, while Hinata is only faster.

“No! Ace is for someone who scores the most!” Lev defends his point of view and I can only giggle at his adorable childishness. His blazing determination to become the best reminds me of Goshiki. Well, truth be told, almost everyone here reminds me of him. I wish I could take one part of each person and craft my own Goshiki that I can carry to wherever I like.

As expected, Akaashi shows an unamused face as he sighs for I don’t know how many times already. “Yes. Someone who scores the most is the wing spi—”

“It doesn’t have to be the wing spiker, Akaashi-san!” Lev squeals, grinning so optimistically about his future-self. “Or fine! I’m going to be a wing spiker by next year!”

“Um, Hime-chan?”

No one has the chance to reply to Lev when Bokuto loudly calls for me. Together with everyone who’s still standing, I turn my head to him. There’s no way I don’t raise one of my eyebrows when I realize that he glares at me with horror in his eyes from behind the phone in his hands. Even Kuroo is somewhat doing the same, but with less tension. Nonetheless, nothing eases the strained feeling I have building up in my chest.

“What’s wrong?” I skeptically question. The atmosphere around me seems to gradually stiffen because Bokuto’s face gets worse by each passing second.

“Uh… I’m just wondering… Did your parents give you permission to play volleyball?” Bokuto inquires something that makes me dilate my eyes as my heart thumps faster, but then I remember that I must keep my composure right. No one here knows the truth about what I’ve done with those from Shiratorizawa, so I have nothing to worry about.

“Of course, they did,” I answer smoothly. “Why?”

“Uh, it’s—oh my, he’s really calling me!” Abruptly, Bokuto hops from the ground and he gives me his black-cased smartphone. “Your father is calling for you.”

“What? My father? Huh? What? Why?” I swear, these aren’t the only questions I have. How come my father has Bokuto’s number? Does this have anything to do with Bokuto asking me whether I got a permission to play volleyball? If it’s true, then does that mean that Bokuto has been in contact with my father? Since when? Why? Is he that desperate to get a scholarship in Miyagi? Does he have some sort of bizarre plan under all of the quirkiness he has? More important, do I really need to pick up the call?

“Hime-chan… I don’t really know what’s going on, but I think I just did something wrong…” Bokuto’s brows are furrowed, seemingly apologetic for doing an unspeakable deed he’s about to confess. “I just… recorded your last spike and posted it on my Twitter. Your father saw it and tweeted me, asking me to message him my phone number because he wants to contact you…”

I flutter my eyes and my brain nearly stops working for a moment.

Not many people know about this, but I don’t have a lot of memories from when I was hit by a car. The last thing I remember was that something rock solid streak me from my right, casting my body far to the opposite direction and I could feel myself falling on a rocky landscape before everything went dark. I didn’t suffer from any significant pain, until I woke up in a cream-colored room with wires all over my body and machines surrounding me. The first emotion that crossed my mind was fear and I think it’s safe to say that what I feel at the moment is more or less the same as that one from back then.

“What?! How could you?! What’s your problem?! Stop messing up with me!” I yell right at Bokuto’s face and I guess it’s normal for him to become dumbfounded from my shrill intonation.

“Hang on, wait! Calm down!” Kuroo stands up and positions himself between me and Bokuto—his entire body acts as a sole barrier before I use my knuckles to ram Bokuto’s face with no mercy. “Hime-chan, let’s talk more after you answer your father’s call, okay? I’m sorry—we are very sorry, but it seems like there’s something not right with all of these. I don’t quite understand it myself.”

I don’t know since when my eyes get all teary, but I chew my lower lip, trying to suppress the overwhelming negativity that’s boiling inside because I don’t want to shamelessly weep in front of these strangers around me. I don’t feel comfortable showing my shortcoming to those who aren’t close to me, so I must do my best. The next thing I need is take Bokuto’s phone, but Kuroo is kind enough to do the favor for me. I have no idea whether it’s because he doesn’t want me to go through any unnecessary work or he’s intending to prevent me from scratching his best friend.

Before I pick the call, I gaze at the screen and inwardly chant a prayer to prepare myself for any kind of lecture I’m going to be forced to get. “Hello?”

“Since when have you been playing volleyball again?” My father’s voice is gone for a couple of seconds before it’s heard again. “No. Since when have you been hiding this?”

“Just… a week ago. Playing in our backyard because I was bored and none of you were home,” I lie because even if someone points a gun at my throat, I won’t ever sell the names of those kind souls from Shiratorizawa. I don’t want my parents to reproach them and the last thing I wish is to break the bond we’ve created over the past few weeks. It wasn’t all their fault, anyway.

My father stressfully sighs. “I don’t know what to say, but I assume you get the idea on why I’m calling you. If you’re going to hurt yourself, your mother and I won’t take care of anything. Go to hospital yourself, contact the insurance yourself, and if you need any additional fee for your treatment, go pay it yourself. Am I understood?”

“…yeah.” My voice comes out subdued. “I’m sorry, Tou-san. I won’t play volleyball ever again.”

“Why do you sound that gloomy?”

“I’m not. I’m okay. It’s my mistake after all.”

“Are you sad because you want to play volleyball again?”

“Not really.” I lower my head because everyone has been staring attentively at me and I’m sure they realize that I’ve been holding back any teardrops from streaming down my cheeks. This is so embarrassing and every single piece of me is hurting. I want to dig my own grave and jump right into it without looking back.

“How’s your shoulder? Does it hurt?”

“No.” I almost choke on my own spit. “It doesn’t hurt at all. I’m wearing a shoulder support.”

“Huh? Who gave it to you?”

“I bought it myself, just before I went here.” For the millionth time today, I fabricate the truth. I just don’t want to turn Semi’s kindness into disaster. I’d rather blame it a bit on myself and a lot on Bokuto. This thing wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t meddled in my business.

“Okay… Is Kei with you?” my father asks and before I’m about the answer, he speaks again, “Ah, of course. You two are always together. Give the phone to him.”

“Okay.” I don’t even try to decline his order because I don’t want to cause more problems. Hastily, I give Bokuto’s phone to Kei who stands near me. At first, Kei can only blink his eyes in confusion, but since he’s not that dumb, he quickly gets the gist of what I’m implying.

“Hello, it’s Kei.” After pressing the phone onto his right ear, Kei casually greets my father like he’s already legally bound to my family as a son-in-law. “Uh, no, that’s correct. As far as I know, she hasn’t hurt herself. At least, not yet.”

“Kei…” I meekly stare at the guy, begging him not to tell my father something inconsequential.

“Yes, I understand. Yes.” Kei shifts his gaze from the floor below to me. Ten seconds later, he says his goodbye to my father and ends the call, handing the thin gadget back to Bokuto with a small “thank you”.

“What did he say?” I instantly ask and I know that it’s not only me who’s curious about this.

“Are you stupid? How dare you to lie to me and everyone? Who gave you the first idea to play volleyball when you know it very well that you can worsen your shoulder? Just wait until Sawamura-san knows about this. It’ll be a nice entertainment for all of us to watch you get scolded for a long time. Add Takeda-sensei and Ukai-san to that as well.” Instead of getting the explanation I want, Kei snaps and it doesn’t look like he’s planning to halt anytime soon. “Tsk. Seriously, how idiotic can you get? And I thought I could trust your words. Do you want to—”

“Ugh, stop it! It’s all because of Bokuto-san! How dare he post a video without my consent?!” I interrupt as I furiously glare at Bokuto who’s been mute since he realized that he’s done something unjustifiable to me. “How many Twitter followers that you have?!”

“O-one hundred thousand something—”

“Seriously?!” I wail, jolting Bokuto for the second time, but this one is stronger than before. “I’ll never forgive you! You’ve ruined my life, so congratulations on that! Next time I’m going to send you my nudes and go post them as well! Let the media write thousands of nasty articles about me!”

Upon perceiving my anger, Bokuto can only frown and pout. He acts all miserable or distressed at himself, but he truly deserves to feel remorseful. I think he should be even way remorseful than this. If I could, I would sue him. I just don’t care anymore. I’m super upset until I want to grab a knife and skin him alive, then I’ll prick his eyeballs, juice them, and coerce him to drink it raw like that. People will call me psycho, but that’s what they get for fighting the wrong person.

“Uh, Hime-chan?” Kuroo calls me and I have no choice but gaze at him. “You know… I’m sorry too. I thought that you would be okay with this. I mean… why wouldn’t you? Your spike was amazing, so I was okay when Bokuto had the idea of posting your video on Twitter. Your posture and technique were so breathtaking, so why wouldn’t you want to show it off to everyone and be proud of your talent? I’m sorry, Hime-chan. I didn’t know that you want to keep this as a secret. If you had told me, I wouldn’t have done any of it.”

“Well, what could we do about this? Everything’s happened. We can’t return a cooked egg back to its raw place. It’s wrong anyway to keep this a secret from my parents.”

“Yes, I understand.” Kuroo cautiously nods his head and proves me that his approach is more mature than most people out there. “But… why are you scared of the media?”

“I’m not scared of them. I’m annoyed,” I correct him without a pause. “When I had my accident, these creeps were waiting in front of the hospital with cameras until the staff had to send them away because they bothered other people. They went to my house and school and tried to collect information from my parents, teachers, or friends. I get it. I know it was normal. I know it meant to happen because I was ‘someone’ ever since I was born, but even until now, they can’t leave me alone. I dislike that. I think you’ll understand my feeling once you experience it yourself.”

“But it’s their job to search for news. It doesn’t mean that they’re bad people… They need money to eat, you know?” Lev chimes in with something realistic, something that I’ve heard countless times from people who want to remove my worries and fright, but I always refuse to mind. Again, it’s easy for them to speak because they haven’t experienced it firsthand.

“I just want to have a peaceful life. Is it hard to understand?” I openly counter Lev’s standpoint. “I want to be able to go to school and public park without having to wear hat or sunglasses. I’ve had it under control for the past few months, but thank you, Bokuto-san, you’ve exploited me. When summer break’s over, I’m going to wear helmet to the school.”

Kuroo clears his throat—I bet it’s actually because he wants to laugh at the vision of me riding a train while wearing a helmet—but then he smiles. “Hime-chan, I’m not saying this to defend what Bokuto and I’ve done nor to ask for pure forgiveness, but like this… Don’t you ever consider these reporters, journalists, paparazzi, or however you want to call them to be like hunters… and you’re the deer?”

“What?” I sound hostile because I’m really not in the mood to listen to a preach full of metaphors, even if it’s from Kuroo or anyone that I respect.

“Deer? Yeah, right. That’s too elegant. She’s more like a wild bear. Look at my cheek,” Kei scorns me and I only roll my eyes, plainly ignoring him. I don’t want to waste my energy to discuss about something trivial, but I’m thoughtful enough to look back at Kuroo, signaling him to continue his story.

“My point is… if you run, these hunters will keep hunting you because they know that sooner or later, they’ll catch you, but if you attack them back, they’ll get scared and run away instead.” Kuroo props one hand on his hip, acting as if he just told me a laudable layout to win an on-going civil war.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” I say without filtering any of my real feeling. “So, you want me to attack them? How? Throwing rotten eggs and flours at them? That’ll be more articles and money for them to make.”

“No, Hime-chan. You should just play around with them.”

I bring one of my eyebrows up. “Like?”

“Spread lies. Make them look stupid. Make them write hoaxes, but then later they’ll find out that it’s all wrong. You should be brave, Hime-chan. Tell them you’re pregnant or something.”

“Pregnant? Isn’t that a bit controversial, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi straightaway rebuffs Kuroo’s plan with the same poker face as always. “Maybe whenever they tweet you bad stuff, reply by sending them funny emoji. Like you don’t care about what they say.”

“Or link to a sad song on Youtube!” Hinata gleefully adds with one finger standing up near his temple.

“Exactly!” For some reasons, Kuroo gladly approves Akaashi and Hinata’s way more than his own. “What I’m trying to say is that you have to make fun of them. I’m sure you’re witty enough to know what to do.”

Like if they spray water at me, I’ll say that I’m grateful because I’m thirsty? Or should I try to reprimand them by saying that there are many poor countries who need clean water, so how could they waste it that way? I know no one will literally take a bucket of water or a garden hose and harass me, but both choices sound hysterically funny to do. I’ve never thought about treating them this way. My plan was constantly full of running and hiding while being incognito because I wanted to keep myself from troubles. Now everything’s too late and I need a new plan.

“I don’t have a Twitter or any other publicly accessible social media, so let me think about it later. Thank you for the suggestions,” I close our conversation before gazing back at Kei. “So, what did my father say after that? Can I continue playing volleyball?”

“In your dream.” Kei broadly grins, not feeling sympathetic at all. “He said that I must prevent you from going anywhere near volleyball.”

I shrug, attempting to show Kei that I’m okay with that. “Yeah, figured. I’ll go to the cafeteria now.”

“Uh, let’s go together, Hime-chan? It’s almost nine. I’m starving too,” Kuroo gently offers to accompany me with eyes traveling around the gym. “Is that okay? Let’s clean up now.”

All kinds of yeses are heard from everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(WARNING: A VERY LONG END NOTES!)**
> 
> Do you know that if you filter this fandom based on the word count, this fic will be up on the first page? (so welcome to the longest HQ xReader fic on AO3 and thank you for sticking with me ♥)
> 
> This is by far the longest story I’ve ever written in my life and it’s funny that I use 1st POV, which I never feel (or felt?) comfortable with. People say that writing 1st POV is the easiest and what noobs will do, but I consider it to be extremely hard because I need to follow the feeling of one person. I know I could switch to another character on every new chapter, but I’m not too creative to write that way. I also feel that my narration will be restricted by the inability to explore many characters at the same time. That’s why I always choose to write using 3rd person omniscient because there’s no limit to it. With 1st POV, if the protagonist doesn’t know about Kei’s real feeling, I need to write “I think Kei is sad”, instead of just “Kei is sad”.
> 
> The last time I had to write in 1st POV was for my college homework. We’re told to “describe” through a short story with maximum of 2k words. Everyone opted to use 1st POV, so I might as well because I didn’t want to be the odd man out (:p). It kinda went like this:  
> 
>
>> Me: _I change my school uniform to my casual outfit—a plain short-sleeved white shirt, a tight light brown trouser, a pair of dark brown boots that almost reach my ankles, and for the final touch, a blue handbag coiling my right shoulder._  
>  Lecturer: This is bad. You should describe more.  
> Me: What?  
> Lecturer: Describe the movement more. Like how the girl changes her clothes.  
> Me: …Sir, I’m pretty sure readers are smart enough to know how someone changes their clothes.  
> Lecturer: No, you should describe more. Also, you wrote too many dialogues (there were literally only less than five smh)  
> Me: …  
> Me: _One by one, I unbutton my top. A second for the first button near my neck, then another one for the second button, then I—_ (50 pages of MS Word later)  
> Lecturer: Oh, this is good. You got an A.  
> Me: …  
> Me: f*ck this school, I quit
> 
>   
> (I maybe exaggerate a bit, but not really lol)
> 
> Anyway, these are the reasons why I choose to use 1st POV for this story:  
> 1\. I don’t want to write a lot of [F/N] or [L/N]. It can get annoying.  
> 2\. But I don’t want to write using 2nd POV either. It’s not professionally used to write a fiction. It’s only for writing recipes or any form of tutorials. Tbh, I was confused when I recently found about xReader because I legit had never read a story with 2nd POV.  
> 3\. This story would get 3 times slower and longer with 3rd POV, believe me. I know we all don’t have time for that.
> 
> I don’t think I’ll write using 1st POV for my next stories, so I hope you guys don’t mind with a lot of [F/N] and [L/N]. It’s simply because I have so many things to tell that it’ll be very inconvenient to follow only one character.
> 
> Sorry for rambling too much. I actually still have another explanation regarding our heroine, but I’ll save it for the next chapter. I hope you guys have a great weekend and thank you so much for everything. Stay awesome~ ♥ ♥ ♥


	36. The One Who Loves Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it?” I seriously can’t wait until he speaks more than this.
> 
> “Do you want to play volleyball?”
> 
> I’m stunned by that question, so I scowl in aggravation. “And why are you asking this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I say that I didn’t really get a real holiday? Just when I laid my head on my bed, I suddenly got 734653896 new things to do.
> 
> BUT I GOT MY ICE CREAM YAY ♥♥♥
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t read the end notes before you finish the chapter for no spoiler.  
> 2\. I’m adding a Bittersweet tag… just in case. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  
> 3\. I’ll be using some of my favorites creator’s stickers and I’m going to leave the links on where you can buy them below.

* * *

Since I head to the cafeteria half an hour earlier than the usual time, I find many familiar faces inside who are still enjoying their dinner within the clanks of plates and glasses made from melamine. From Karasuno only, I spot Yamaguchi, Tanaka, and the rest of the third year, circling a table together with some substitutes from Nekoma. There are some empty tables left, but it seems like those certain people have gotten too attached to each other that as soon as they step outside the battle, they’ll turn into a group of brothers who share about anything.

“You! What did you just do? Nice video, though!” Just before I’m halfway in the place, Tanaka shouts with a finger pointed at my face, gathering everyone’s attention to me, including those who aren’t even near him. His phone is in his left hand and even if it’s not there, his words are enough to make me understand what he’s getting at.

“Oh… Thanks… I guess?” I walk closer to the bald guy, leaving the boys from the third gym behind me as one single curiosity crawls into my mind. “Um… Tanaka-san, can I watch the video?”

“Sure!” Tanaka taps a couple of things on his screen before he holds the thin silverish gadget mid-air, allowing me to stand behind him and see everything crystal clear. The first thing I notice isn’t Bokuto’s username simply being _Bokuto_Koutarou_ or how he wears a cool brown leather jacket in his profile picture or that he wrote _Volleyball 101: How to Win Against Blockers 20cm+ Taller Than You with Hime-chan~_ above my video. It’s about that one post being retweeted by over eight thousand users and favorited by more than twenty thousand. It’s only been fifteen minutes since this was aired. I don’t know whether I should be thrilled or horrified.

The video itself isn’t anything special. Surely it feels different to watch myself being recorded, but it’s just me jumping and spiking through Lev’s inadequate block, then me chanting a loud “yay”, followed by my small chit-chat with Lev and Kei—that can’t even be heard by anyone since we sound more like birds chirping—before the video abruptly ends. Honestly, I look so unguarded and innocent because at that time, I hadn’t realized that Bokuto was secretly turning on the camera on his phone. If I had, I would’ve taken one of my shoes off and hurled it at his head.

“Hey, are you okay?” Yamaguchi asks me and I nod my head before it quickly changes into an unenthusiastic shrug. I feel funny because I can’t even understand my own feeling. Am I okay? Am I still sane?

“Anyway, your mother hasn’t tweeted anything. That’s a bit weird because she’s so active on Twitter, but this is your father’s tweet to Bokuto-san.” Tanaka shows me my father’s account and his newest tweet.

_ @Bokuto_Koutarou hey, message me your phone number. I need to call my daughter _

My eyebrows twitch, not in a good way.

Should I cringe or get upset at my father’s straightforward request on a public platform like a social media? I see that he has more than 220,000 followers. That being said, he could’ve only written the first sentence, not the second one because it got the probability of ruining my reputation even more. Or he could’ve just let this unabashed moment slide away without contacting Bokuto. He could’ve become a more discreet father for a daughter like me.

Then should I hysterically cry or scream because that one tiny tweet got retweeted for 164 times and favorited by more than 300 users? These people need life, but I’m going to lose mine. I’m not ready for that. I’m totally embarrassed, I don’t know what to do beside locking myself in a coffin and never coming out.

“Do you want to read people’s comments—”

“No, thank you, Tanaka-san,” I interrupt Tanaka’s words as I walk away from the table, attempting to stay calm and collected on every step I take. I see Kei, Kuroo, and Bokuto speaking to each other near a small table where two bowls of ripped bananas are placed next to each other. I don’t know since when I’ve lost any appetite to have a full dinner, but for sure, I’m not in the mood to waste any more time around strangers. Two or three bananas should be enough to carry me throughout the night and that’s all the reason why I drag my feet to those three nice-looking boys.

“What’s wrong, Hime-chan?” Kuroo’s the one who starts a conversation with me, when I thought that it would be Kei.

“Nothing. Just want to pick some bananas,” I respond without really looking up at anyone because my hands are busy removing the fruit from its stem. “I’m going back now.”

“You’re not going to have dinner? How rare.” At last, Kei raises his voice and once I secure one banana in each hand, I lift my head and lock my eyes with his.

“No, I’m not really hungry and I want to take off my shoulder support. I’ve been wearing it since our afternoon break. I guess I shouldn’t have done it because it’s getting a bit uncomfortable. Not painful, just... itchy.” I need to make sure that no one has the chance to hyperbolize anything, particularly Kei.

“I didn’t know that you’re wearing one,” Kuroo declares, hands folded in front of his chest. “And… you know, I’m still sorry that this needs to happen. I’m sorry that you’re banned from playing volleyball ever again. I was the one who asked you at the first place.”

“No, that’s fine. It was my mistake to begin with. I’m always a rebel, I have to keep that under control.” I smile, hiding the tightness I feel in my chest as my eyes carefully drift back to Kei. “Um, Kei, I’m going to borrow your earphones. You go eat. I’m going to take it myself.”

“It’s in my bag,” Kei promptly apprises me. “Knock before you enter the room. If there’s no one inside, just walk in and leave as soon as you take the earphones. If there’s Noya-san or any other second year, ask them to grab it for you. Wait outside the door.”

“Why are you so protective?” I stretch the corner of my lips even further, but as soon as I notice how Kei has to conceal his gentleman-side by clicking his tongue in exasperation, I burst into laughter. It’s hilarious because he always does things he doesn’t mean. Isn’t he tired of that?

“Earphones, eh? I often see you having a call with someone. Who is it, Hime-chan? You’re not two-timing Tsukki, aren’t you?” Once again, Kuroo gives me another question. A cheeky one this time.

“Hahaha. No.” I lightly shake my head. “Or no… I mean, not yet.”

“Eh???” The pitch of Kuroo’s tone intensifies. It’s funny to see him widening his eyes, acting as if he seriously takes my words. I’m sure he knows that I’m a good girl who’ll never cheat on her partner. At least I have a clean reputation in romance division.

“Hahaha. See you, guys. Eat a lot, but not until you hurt your stomach,” I excuse myself before turning to the entrance door. For the first time after what occurred at the gym, Bokuto smiles at me and I return the milder one back to him. I’m mad, but I don’t hate him. I just need some time to process what he’s done and forgive him after I cool myself down. Everything should eventually be okay, unless if he does something unforgivable again.

* * *

Ennoshita’s there when I visit the boys’ room. He gives me Kei’s earphones and I immediately proceed to my own room, where all of the managers are present, besides those from Fukuroudani who are still in the cafeteria with their own people. I say hi to the girls before I take out my phone from my bag, then leaving the room as I turn on the power in silence. I let everything load while hopping back downstairs, eyes roaming to the front. I’ll just go to the same place as several days ago, where there’s this lonely bench beneath a yellow street lamp that’s not too far from all the other buildings. It’ll be a bit dark, but who cares as long as Ushijima is able to identify my face?

When my feet land on the hallway outside the main building, I check on my phone. I did anticipate any sort of uproar from those who’ve known me since years ago, but I didn’t think that there would be more than two hundred LINE messages from so many people. There are some from Goshiki, Ushijima, two of Goshiki’s ex-teammates from middle school, and four family members who I haven’t talked to in a while. What makes me part my lips in disbelief is that I’m invited to a group named “Not Really About Volleyball” and it’s full of the regulars from Shiratorizawa’s male volleyball team.

 _ Tendou _  
_Welcome to the group, Hime-chan! 8:52 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_I’m not sure if she likes it to be invited here… 8:52 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Like I said that’s fine, Tsutomu. She can leave anytime she wants 8:52 PM_  
_Let me start by saying that I’m sorry and I accept any kinds of felony charges from Haruka-san and Eiji-san 8:52 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_I’m sorry too and I accept any kind, as long as they’re not too bad 8:53 PM_  
_Don’t take my scholarship away, please 8:53 PM_  
_I can get kicked out of the house by my parents 8:53 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_I’m not involved in this matter 8:53 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_I kind of feel bad for saying this, but neither am I 8:53 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_I’m sorry and I accept any kinds of felony charges from Haruka-san and Eiji-san < same 8:53 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Taichi, you could’ve written your own apology you know 8:53 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Yeah 8:53 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Not only “yeah”! Write it now! 8:53 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_I’m sorry, but I can’t quite relate to the third years feeling because I haven’t gotten any scholarship 8:54 PM_  
_I’m a second year, things can happen 8:54 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Taichi, why are you like this? 8:54 PM_  
_8:54 PM_

I laugh as I cover my mouth with my left hand. That sticker is so wrong and comedic in its own way.

 _ Semi _  
_Gross! 8:54 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_Tendou-san, please stop using that sticker 8:54 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Hahaha 8:54 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Why? I like it! 8:54 PM_  
_8:54 PM_

 _ Shirabu _  
_Of course 8:54 PM_  
_Tacky person understands tacky person 8:54 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Oh, shut up, Kenjirou! I bet after this you’re going to buy the set 8:55 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_Never in a million years 8:55 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Anyway, when will [L/N] will be available? 8:55 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Don’t know. Ask his best friend 8:55 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Uh, if she takes a shower first, then she’ll be here after 10 8:55 PM_  
_If she won’t, then 9:30 or somewhere around that time 8:55 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Then let’s stop chatting until she reads everything. It’ll be too hard on her if she has to scroll and read too many things 8:55 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_I agree 8:55 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_Where’s Ushijima-san? 8:59 PM  
_

_ Yamagata _  
_Showering 8:59 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Finally you’re here! 8:59 PM  
_

_ Yamagata _  
_Sorry, I’m playing games 8:59 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_What game? 8:59 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_You haven’t said any apology! 8:59 PM  
_

_ Yamagata _  
_MGS_  
_I’d rather talk to her in private because I’m a gentleman 8:59 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_You should’ve called her then? 9:00 PM  
_

_ Yamagata _  
_Hahaha, no. That’s imprudent 9:00 PM  
Be right back 9:00 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Imprudent, hm? 9:00 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Eh, what’s MGS? 9:00 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Monosodium glutamate 9:00 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_That’s MSG -_- 9:00 PM  
_

Again, I chuckle, but now it’s at how funny Kawanishi and adorable everyone else is. Then I gasp when I don’t even realize that I’ve passed the bench I intend to use a place to spend some time with Ushijima today. I internally curse at my own foolishness before turning around and walking back to where I should be. I take a quick look at the wooden material—scanning for a dirt or any other danger—and when I’m sure that nothing will make me jump out of terror, I seat myself. I see some boys from Ubugawa conversing with each other from far, but I couldn’t care less about them. I could about the group chat inside my phone.

 _ Tendou _  
_9:00 PM_

_Semi_  
_Extremely disturbing -_- 9:00 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_It’s Metal Gear Solid 9:00 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Oh! I see, I see! 9:01 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_I’m going to sleep 9:01 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_That’s fine. Sleep well 9:01 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Sleep well! 9:01 PM_  


_Shirabu_  
_Disgusting 9:01 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I’m here 9:04 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Wakatoshi-kun! Send us your topless pictures! 9:04 PM_  
_Now! 9:04 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_-_- 9:04 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_What? Maybe someone wants to see those abs 9:04 PM  
_

I grunt. Pretty sure I’ve made Tendou vow over his life to not ever mention about the possibility of Ushijima romancing me or vice versa, but seemingly, it’s too difficult for him to maintain that. Just like it’s impossible for my parents to stop their attempts to set me up with those young volleyball players they nurture. What’s weirder is on the way back home, they’ll remind me that I can’t to date anyone before I graduate from high school. It’s as if they’re keeping these boys in their basement until I’m old enough for things.

_Goshiki_  
_She’s too classy for that 9:04 PM  
_

One high-five for Goshiki who knows me best.

_Tendou_  
_Not like she’ll complain 9:04 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Stop -_- 9:04 PM_  
_If she leaves the group the instant she reads this chat, it’ll be Tendou’s fault 9:04 PM  
_

Another high-five for Semi who respects me more than his red-haired friend.

_Reon_  
_Wakatoshi isn’t replying 9:05 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Because he’s taking pictures 9:05 PM_  
_9:05 PM_

_Ushijima_  
_I’m not. I won’t 9:05 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Of course you won’t 9:05 PM_  
_Good guy 9:05 PM  
_

I exhale a long strenuous breath. Before I write anything in the group, I close the tab and open Ushijima’s chat. I just feel like it’s more inappropiate for me to answer his words before everyone else. There isn’t any real reason besides that once I show myself to everyone, I won’t be able to leave easily and be with someone else. It’s more effective for me to call Ushijima before I’m bombarded by the likes of Tendou because then we can always talk when we need to.

_Ushijima_  
_I saw your video on Twitter_. _I hope you’re feeling well 8:48 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:13 PM Hey there_  
  _9:13 PM_

_Ushijima_  
_Hello._ _You’re good? 9:13 PM  
_

My defense mechanism leads me to type the words “I’m fine”, but just after I finish the last alphabet, I erase everything and rewrite the first word all over again. My eyelids flutter as I bite my lower lip to suppress an overwhelming emotion I feel inside. I realize that a big part of me doesn’t want to tell any lies to this guy like I do to other people, so that’s what I choose. This should be okay, even if in the end, it forces my brain to acknowledge my fragility and gives a sharp stab right into my already-damaged heart.

_Me_  
_9:13 PM  I’m not feeling well_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes. I can understand that 9:14 PM  
_

_Me_  
  _9:14 PM_ _But I’ll be okay, like always_

 _Ushijima_  
_Why are you free this early? 9:14 PM_

_Me_  
  _9:14 PM_ _My father called me and told me to stop playing volleyball, so I had to leave the gym  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I see 9:14 PM  
Do you want me to call you? 9:14 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:14 PM Yes, last night I promised to have a video call with you_

_Ushijima_  
_But are you sure you don’t want to be alone at the moment? Some people like to be left alone when they’re sad 9:14 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:14 PM No_  
_9:15 PM_ _More like I need someone_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay 9:15 PM_  
_9:15 PM_

Just when I smile and think about how lovely Ushijima is for sending me that sticker, I get a video call from him. Hastily, I plug both of Kei’s earphones into my ears and accept the call with one touch. The same as yesterday and days before, I find him leaning on the white wall of his dorm room with a short-sleeved yellow t-shirt and zero noise around. If I have to compare his place and Shinzen’s cafeteria, I must say that it’s like a dead town from medieval age versus Japan’s train station in the morning. Too dissimilar to even be judged side by side. It’s unfair.

“Hey,” I greet him first. “Sorry if it’s too dark. I don’t have any safer place to have a video call with you.”

“That’s fine as long as I can see you.” I’m not surprised at his frankness that’s not even cheesy because he doesn’t have any intention to be flirty. He means every single syllable of it.

“How’s your day?” I jump into one habitual question which we have to ask each other at the beginning of our call.

“There’s nothing special, so no need to talk about mine. You should think more about yours.” His voice comes out sweet like always and I’m touched, perhaps also because of his recurring attitude of making me his priority and that my melancholy side craves for one compassion tonight.

“Your friends invited me to this group chat. Looks like it’s chaotic there. Did someone share my video on the group before I was invited?” I ask him right to the point.

“Yes. Yamagata did. Don’t get mad at him.”

“No, why would I? It’s normal for everyone to talk about me, right? Just when I thought that I had my beautiful and calm life back to pieces,” I blurt out, propping my left leg on my right before continuing, “I don’t know why bad things always happen to me. After all, I fit with that Cursed Princess title.”

“Don’t say that,” Ushijima sharply interjects, growling quite a bit to show a great disapproval of my words. “Bokuto shouldn’t have done that. It’s never your fault.”

Another puff of breath slips out my mouth. “…your friends have been waiting for me, so I’ll reply to them. Wait for a moment.”

“Yes. Take your time,” Ushijima kindly permits me.

 _ Me_  
_ 9:18 PM Hello?_

 _ Tendou _  
_Hime-chan!!!!!!!!! 9:18 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Hello there 9:18 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Hello 9:18 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_You’re early. Did something happen? 9:18 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:18 PM Hello, hello~_  
_ 9:19 PM My father called me and I was told not to play volleyball_  
_ 9:19 PM I had to leave and everyone else did the same_  
_ 9:19 PM And I’ve read everything you guys wrote above_

_Goshiki_   
_What did he say? 9:19 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:19 PM He forced me to explain when and why I played volleyball again, so I told him about how some of you told me to do that jump serve when I went to your school_  
_ 9:19 PM He said that my mother is super upset, she’s going to cancel all of your scholarships_

_Semi_  
_Seriously??? 9:19 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_No way! 9:19 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:20 PM Yeah, I’m sorry :’(_

_Goshiki_  
_Impossible. Haruka-san can be eccentric, but she won’t do that 9:20 PM_  
_9:20 PM_

_Me_  
_ 9:20 PM No, I’m serious_  
_ 9:20 PM Go ask her if you don’t believe me_

_Semi_  
_Wait, I need to process this 9:20 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Eh? Is this for real? 9:20 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_My heart is on the way to stop beating 9:20 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_I don’t know what to say about this 9:20 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Then I won’t be getting any scholarship next year 9:20 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Now you care! 9:20 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_We always regret something after it’s already too late 9:20 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_I don’t need to hear any words of wisdom from someone like you! 9:20 PM_  
_9:21 PM_

_Me_  
_ 9:21 PM I have so many questions regarding that sticker…_

_Semi_  
_So do I, but now I’m more concerned about our scholarship 9:21 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Are we really losing our scholarship? 9:21 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:21 PM Hahaha, sorry, I can’t take it anymore_  
_ 9:21 PM I’m just kidding XD_

_Semi_  
_What 9:21 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_9:21 PM_

_Yamagata_  
_That’s obvious 9:21 PM_  
_I don’t think Hime-chan will sell us that easily 9:21 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_I almost had a heart attack 9:21 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Why do you always like to tease people…? 9:21 PM_  
_9:21 PM_

_Reon_  
_Thank God 9:22 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:22 PM Sorry XD_

_Kawanishi_  
_I knew it 9:22 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Shut up, Taichi 9:22 PM_  
_You didn’t know it 9:22 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_   
_I did. I always get a high score in Japanese literature 9:22 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_9:22 PM_  
_So what……… That doesn’t have anything to do with what’s going on here……… 9:22 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_-_- 9:22 PM_  
_You two are always out of topic 9:22 PM_  
_Then what did you say to your father? 9:22 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:22 PM That I began playing last week, alone in my backyard when my parents weren’t home_  
_ 9:22 PM I bought my own shoulder support just before I went to the training camp_

_Semi_  
_Did you take all the blame? 9:23 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:23 PM That’s fine, I don’t get any punishment_  
_ 9:23 PM Well, only that I’m not allowed to play volleyball again, but I was never allowed in the first place_

_Semi_  
_No, I’m very sorry 9:23 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:23 PM No! It’s no one’s mistake!_

_Tendou_  
_I feel bad now 9:23 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:23 PM No need, Tendou-san. Everything’s good_

_Tendou_  
_Uh, yeah… but I don’t know… Sorry if it may seem that I only think about myself, but I can’t imagine if I would lose this scholarship. I’m not that smart and I don’t like studying. I won’t survive attending a normal college and even if I manage to graduate, I’ll never be an accountant or any other type of an office worker. My homework is always a mixed of 33% Eita, 33% Wakatoshi, 33% Reon, and 1% me trying to add some additional words so it won’t look too much of a copy-paste 9:23 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Why are you writing a memoir about yourself 9:23 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_And it’s not like we can relate to that 9:24 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Exactly 9:24 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_I thought you’re sleeping, Shirabu -_- 9:24 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_9:24 PM_

_Reon_  
_Hahaha 9:24 PM  
_

“Ushijima-san… is it just me or Kawanishi-san is very comical?” I ask Ushijima in between all kinds of laughter I’ve let out for the past few minutes.

“Many say that he’s the funniest among everyone in our team, although he never jokes like that with me as he’s with Tendou. Sometimes I don’t understand what they’re saying.”

“Hahaha. Yeah… The way he answers to everything is nothing like his cool guy demeanor. He’s very fun and amusing,” I add before going back to read the next chat.

_Tendou_  
_No! My point is that I can’t become an office worker because I’m incapable, so I need to become a professional volleyball player if I want to be able to buy rice! What am I supposed to do if I don’t get a scholarship? 9:24 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_You can always work at Disneyland 9:24 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_9:24 PM_

_Semi_  
_Stop using that sticker! 9:24 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Disneyland??? 9:25 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_I’ll buy one soon :D 9:25 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Tsutomu, no! 9:25 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Yeah, Disneyland_  
_As a clown or sell ice cream 9:25 PM_  
_Don’t you like ice cream? 9:25 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_9:25 PM_  
_You like sukiyaki. Why don’t you sell sukiyaki? 9:25 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_That’s true 9:25 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Taichi is too good-looking to work in a sukiyaki restaurant 9:25 PM_  
_All the girls in town will come, just to see him 9:25 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Thank you, Reon-san 9:25 PM_  
_9:25 PM_  
_9:25 PM_

_Goshiki_  
_Hahaha those stickers! 9:26 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_I just bought them 9:26 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_That’s way better and funnier than Tendou’s 9:26 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_No, no, no. Mine is more creative 9:26 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_How? -_- 9:26 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_But Taichi’s stickers remind me of summer last year, when Wakatoshi-kun ran in our fitness center and there were 10+ girls drooling over his body 9:26 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Which one? That’s happened quite a lot of times 9:26 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_It was at 7pm. We didn’t have any practice that day because the gym was under maintenance. Wakatoshi-kun wanted to run, so he went to the fitness center with you, me, Reon, and Hayato. When we were there, only 1 AC was on and it was quite hot. We didn’t know where the remotes were and we couldn’t find any janitor or security to help us 9:26 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Oh that one 9:26 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_What happened? I’ve never heard about this story 9:27 PM_  


_Tendou_  
_So there were already some people there, but no one really did an extensive workout because of the heat. Not like Wakatoshi-kun cared, so he began running. As we all had expected, it got too hot for him. He was sweating so much 9:27 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_He was drenched after only 10 minutes and we were just cycling very slowly behind him 9:27 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Hahaha, true 9:27 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_In the end, I told him to take his shirt off. He did it and the entire place went insane 9:27 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Not really “insane", but yeah… sort of 9:27 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Hahaha 9:27 PM_  
_Some of the girls there kept stealing a glance at him 9:27 PM_  
_Most just blatantly stared while whispering to each other 9:27 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Were they really like this 9:27 PM_  
_9:27 PM_  
_9:27 PM_

_Reon_  
_Hahaha, totally! 9:28 PM  
_

“Is this true, Ushijima-san?” I ask another question to Ushijima. “About everything Tendou-san wrote?”

“They said yes, but I didn’t notice anything.”

I snigger at Ushijima’s usual denseness. “Of course.”

_Reon_  
_[L/N] has been quiet for some time 9:28 PM  
_

_Me_  
_9:28 PM Oh sorry, I’m here, just enjoying myself while reading all of your chats  
_

_Ushijima_  
_She’s been cackling nonstop 9:28 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Oh, young love~ 9:28 PM_  
  
_Of course you two are calling each other~ 9:28 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_We’re video calling, to be precise 9:28 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Hahaha, we get it, Wakatoshi 9:28 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Aw, how cute 9:28 PM_  
_9:29 PM_

_Me_  
_9:29 PM Stop D;_  
_9:29 PM I’m going to leave this group, okay?  
_

_Reon_  
_Why? 9:29 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_No, just stay! 9:29 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_No! 9:29 PM_  
_See, Tendou? Say sorry now! 9:29 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_9:29 PM_

_Semi_  
_-_- 9:29 PM  
_

_Tendou  
_ _Hime-chan, stay! 9:29 PM_

It might sound arrogant for me to think this way, but why do these people like me so much? Should I be flattered or terrified because we aren’t from the same school, thus we have to beat each other in Spring High this year? Although that’s only if Karasuno gets into the finals because Shiratorizawa surely will without the need to even try their best.

_Me_  
_9:29 PM Won’t you guys be talking about your team? Like volleyball strategy and stuff  
_

_Tendou_  
_No! Never! Look at the title of this group! We only talk about useless things here! 9:29 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_*I 9:30 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_What? 9:30 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_It’s not “we” but “I” 9:30 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Good job, Taichi 9:30 PM_  
_One point for you 9:30 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Shut up! Underage kids should go to bed! 9:30 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_You just turned 18 2 months ago 9:30 PM_  
_Why so arrogant? You haven’t even gotten your driving license because you failed the written test last week -_- 9:30 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Good job, Semi-san 9:30 PM_  
_One point for you 9:30 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_ 9:30 PM  
_

“When will you stop chatting them?”

“Hm?” I reposition my phone that’s been slanting since I need to comfortably read the screen, once again showing my entire face to Ushijima. “Uh, right, sorry. I’m closing the app now.”

“No, that’s fine if you still want to be with them. Suit yourself,” Ushijima reassures that there’s nothing wrong with me finding entertainment in his friends bickering with each other.

Our eyes attentively meet through the glass. “Your question before was as if you don’t want me to entirely focus myself on them. That’s true, actually. It’s impolite for me to ignore you when we’re having a call like this.”

“I want to talk to you. We don’t have much time before you have to leave again, but you seem to like my friends a lot.” He swipes his somewhat damp fringe to the back, eyes looking sideways for a moment before darting back at me. “They make you laugh, so it’s not a problem. I can wait.”

“No, no, no! Let’s talk now! I’m not reading their chat anymore!” I squeak, not wanting to see the gloomy version of Ushijima that I’ve encountered several times already. “Uh, won’t you have any intensive training before the FIVB?”

“Yes. I’ll go to Tokyo next Saturday.”

“Eh? This Saturday? You mean tomorrow?”

“No, next Saturday. It’ll be for a week, then I’m going back to Sendai for one or two days before leaving again,” Ushijima corrects me.

“Ah, I see.” I gently smile as I make a mental note of his schedule. “Good luck. Go win the entire tournament.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best.” He nods his head and goes silent for a moment, but his eyes are never away from staring at my face. “I have one wish. Do you want to hear it?”

I lift my eyebrows, tilting my head to the left. “Hm? Sure, just ask.”

“I really want to see you before I go.”

Unconsciously, my eyes drift down to my legs that are covered in a pair of short black pants. I can’t help but grin, blushing quite hard from Ushijima’s request that’s always so short and right to the point. It’s as if his principle of life is that once he desires something, he’ll reach it without contemplating too hard about anything. Doesn’t he feel shy sometimes? Has he ever felt shy before? He always wears this one stoic expression until I don’t know what’s inside his mind. If I ask him, I’m sure he’ll brush me away by saying that I worry about something that doesn’t even exist.

“What’s the matter? You don’t want to meet me?” he meekly demands an answer as I’ve gone soundless from all the thoughts I have.

“No, that’s not it…” I curl my lips, eyes slowly gazing back at the screen. “Um, aren’t you basically asking me out on a date?”

“Ah.” He opens his mouth to create a perfect circle. “I am.”

“You are? Oh, I see…” I slump into the bench, keeping my phone up high so I can still see Ushijima’s face and same goes to him. “Ah… This day is just so strange…”

“I’m sorry to make you feel this way.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Why are you apologizing?” I ask, utterly bewildered at his constant fear of angering me. “It’s just rare for someone to ask me to go out on a date… and to think that Ushijima Wakatoshi would be the first guy to do it since I started high school…”

“Is that so? Have you ever gone out with someone before?”

“Hm?” I frown, thinking that he has asked me this before but I can’t remember the exact time. “Dating, you mean?”

“No, I know you’ve never had a boyfriend. I mean… going out on a date.”

“No, never. I was asked by some boys in my middle school, but I always refused,” I reply nonchalantly. It’s not like those things really matter now and as long as I don’t shout any names out loud, there shouldn’t be a problem telling this to Ushijima or any other person.

“Why?”

“I didn’t like them that much. I didn’t want to give them hope and they’re Goshiki’s friends, so… I didn’t want it to be weird, in case something happened.” I take a breath before straightening my back to a normal sitting position. “Anyway, let’s think about the time and place later, but it’ll definitely be some day next week. Okay?”

“I’m not rejected?” Ushijima’s face and tone brighten up and I chuckle. There should be a limit to someone being too pure because I don’t want to get toothache from all the sweetness given to me.

“Of course, you’re not… I’m even honored that you ask me out.”

“Really…?” Ushijima mumbles as he seems flustered over something I can’t quite catch. “So, you like me that much and you want to give me hope?”

“What? No! Don’t put it that way! You’re so weird!” I snarl and when I see a sign of him wanting to retort, I harshly interrupt, “And don’t apologize! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Sor—um, yes.”

“You always take everything so literally… I said yes because we’re friends and I respect you as a person. I know you won’t mistreat me when we’re together. Not like I didn’t respect my friends back then or that I thought they would mistreat me, but it’s just that…” I stop for a moment because suddenly I get super confused at my own explanation. “I-I said yes because you’re Ushijima Wakatoshi. Yes, that’s it. I think… Maybe… Yeah… Ugh, I don’t know, okay? I just don’t see the reason to refuse your invitation because you’re awesome and it’ll be amazing for someone like me to walk side by side with you!”

“Why did you say that?” Ushijima sounds displeased at my justification and it’s also perfectly shown on his face. “I don’t know why you always talk like you’re no one. You’re still a volleyball star. People are always searching for your news. That won’t happen to someone ‘normal’.”

I expand my eyes, feeling astonished by his unvarnished accusation. “No! That’s not what I—”

“I don’t like it if you consider me as someone above you.” This time, it’s his turn to cut my words with his own opinion. “I always think that we have so many things in common. The way we grew up and live are the same, even the way we dream. So please, don’t think so low of yourself. That’s disgraceful and hurtful to hear.”

“Uh… Yes… I’m sorry…” I don’t know what else to say because one, Ushijima just scolded me with such kindness and realism. Two, it’s a bad sign that the even-tempered him could speak like that to me. Three, now I feel that I’m whining and acting like a childish brat over nothing. I swear I used to be more confident than this, but one accident has completely changed me. I still have years to hone my perspective of this world.

“Oi.”

Swiftly, I look to my right—to the source of a lethargic voice I’ve heard countless times before. There I see Kei walking alone toward me with a bottle of something dark red in his left hand. Everything happens so fast that I don’t have the chance to shoo him away, but why does everyone always bother me when I’m alone with Ushijima? First time it happened, I thought it was just a coincidence. Twice, I laughed it off. Thrice and above? I begin to sense the bad omen. Maybe people around me—including myself—are puppets controlled by a twelve-year old who can’t muster some believable conflicts for their cheesy debut novel.

“What?” Without staring down, I lock my phone, just so Kei won’t find out that Nanako is apparently a one hundred ninety centimeters tall male bear from Miyagi.

“The strawberry Ramune.” Once he stands in front of me, Kei stretches out his left hand, showing what appears to be the drink I brought far from our hometown, yet has been completely forgotten. “The cafeteria lady reminded me about this and I remembered you told me that it’s for me, so I just took it and drank it.”

“Uh, yeah. Go drink it all.” I cover my phone with both hands, as if that will prevent Ushijima from hearing anything from my side.

“No, drink the rest.” Kei nudges my right cheek with the end of the cold bottle and I nimbly grab it, only to put it down on the bench beside me. It’s unusual for him to leave half of something made from strawberry and let someone enjoy the rest of it, but I don’t ask why as I don’t want to prolong this conversation.

“Thanks,” I nicely say, albeit unneeded since I’m the one who gave this drink to him, not the other way around. Or technically, it’s Shiratorizawa’s money through Shirabu and Reon who went to the convenience store for my sake.

“Did you take the earphones by yourself?” I can tell that Kei isn’t planning to leave anytime soon and it’s not like I have the choice to send him away without creating any skepticism.

“No, Ennoshita-san was there.”

“Oh.” Kei turns around, back facing me as he raises his head to watch the mundane dark sky above us. “Are you… You’re… good, right?”

“What?”

“No, nothing.” I have no idea why he never talks normally without trying to muddle an easy sentence a newborn baby can fluently say. If he wants to drink, then just ask for a drink. If he wants to ask whether someone likes blue or red, then just come closer and ask. I don’t know why he never does that. He has a lot of things to fix and I’ve said this too many times until my throat is all dry.

I huff because I can’t waste any more time waiting for him to repeat his previous question, but just before I give up, Kei rotates his body to face me. He looks way taller than usual because now I’m sitting and he’s standing. I suppose that’s why he opts to crouch down, both hands resting above his well-defined thighs. Everyone will agree that he’s skinny for his frame, but he’s been playing volleyball for years and that’s why he’s developed some muscles. Not as visible as Azumane’s, but people can tell that he’s done some workout.

“What is it?” I seriously can’t wait until he speaks more than this.

“Do you want to play volleyball?”

I’m stunned by that question, so I scowl in aggravation. “And why are you asking this?”

“What’s wrong with me asking this?” I thought he would frown or pinch my nose, but instead, his expression is so solemn that it makes me feel guilty for feeling this suspicious.

“Well, that’s…” I bring my head down, not wanting to keep making eye contact with him. “I’d love to play volleyball, but I can’t, so that’s fine. I won’t force my way out. I must learn to accept who I am now.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” he affirms my answer before standing up. Just after I lift my head up to see him, he pats my head twice and walks away. He doesn’t even look back to mock me like usual. That’s odd, but I’m thankful that he doesn’t stay here any longer than this.

“Um… Ushijima-san? Sorry, but he’s gone. You can talk now,” I call Ushijima, informing him that we can continue talking to each other. I hope nothing will bother us for the second time tonight. Not Takeda, not Ukai, or anyone.

“Did you give Tsukishima Kei the strawberry Ramune you asked from Shirabu?” I admit, I’m a bit dazed that Ushijima is more curious about this than anything that’s more important, but I can’t not say that I don’t anticipate this kind of question.

“Yes. Sorry, is that… not good?”

“No, it’s fine,” he guarantees that Shirabu won’t kill me when he finds out about this. “You care so much about him.”

“Ha. I care more about Goshiki.”

“So, if Tsukishima Kei and Goshiki were about to drown, who would you save first?”

I hold my laughter at Ushijima’s humorous question that I’m sure is being taught to him by Tendou. “Well… I can’t save both. I used to be able to swim, but since I broke my shoulder, I can’t anymore.”

“Oh, is that so? Sorry about that.”

How simple and endearing. Maybe before he goes to bed, he’ll Google or ask his friends another similar question to tell me next time. If he’s not most precious creation in this cruel world, then everything else is nothing more than black and white.

“Uh, I have a question that I want to ask. Is that okay?” I continue our topic, even if it’s only been paused for less than a minute.

“Always.”

“Thanks.” I smile at him, mind wandering to many volleyball-related memories that wring my heart, but my eagerness is stronger than the emotion itself. “Who do you think loves me more? Someone who forbids me from playing because they don’t want me to hurt myself or someone who allows me to play because they want me to be happy? I don’t feel any pain in my shoulder and I’ve told everyone that I’ll stop the moment it stings, but… I don’t know.”

“I trust you,” Ushijima softly answers. “So, I think someone who allows you to play is the one who loves you more. At least, that’s how I see it.”

I heave a long sigh and throw my head back, staring at the sky. “I want to tell you something, but promise me to keep it as a secret, especially from my parents and Goshiki. I choose you because I know that you’ll understand me, so please.”

“Don’t worry. I promise.” He doesn’t hesitate and I don’t expect him to.

“…I really want to play volleyball again. On a court. Professionally like before,” I reveal my real feeling, something that I have never said to anyone else who knows me. “I’m jealous of you… that you get to go to France for FIVB. You’re going to represent Japan again next year and the next year after that… and for the next fifteen years before you retire. I’ll sacrifice anything to get that kind of life again, but I know it’s just a wishful thinking. I’m very sorry you have to hear this. I hope I don’t annoy you.”

“Do you know that I’m willing to give you anything you want?” Ushijima questions me without a hitch and I feel something strange yet warm streaking my heart. “If I could donate my bones to make you able to play volleyball again, I would. Unfortunately, healing you isn’t as simple as replacing a piece of your shoulder. I’m sorry that I can’t grant this one wish.”

“Hahaha, why are you the one saying sorry? You’re not a genie and I’m not Cinderella who has her personal fairy godmother.”

“That I know, but I’m still sorry.”

I have no words to say back, so I spend the next two minutes gazing at nothingness because that’s how I perceive this city’s murky sky. Words after words fly over my head when I suddenly realize that perhaps everyone knows the main reason I’m feeling blue isn’t because of Bokuto or the media, but because I can’t play volleyball again. That’s why Kuroo kept mentioning about me being unable to play when he apologized. That’s why the apathetic Kei asked about whether I want to play volleyball or not. I could even tell that those from Shiratorizawa symphatized more about the part where I’m forbidden to touch this sport, more than the mayhem on Twitter.

So, is it safe to say that I care more about the media, while people around me care more about my happiness?

“Hey, can I see your face again?” Ushijima sweetly requests and I squeeze the phone in my lap. I forgot that I haven’t unlocked my phone ever since Kei came over.

“Oh, right. Sorry about that.” I swipe my phone and let my camera load. As soon as I see Ushijima’s handsome face again, I give him the broadest grin of the day. I’m glad that someone like him is on my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To: #TeamUshijima and Everyone Who Loves Shiratori Boys  
> Message: You’re welcome. I’m happy too. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Here’s the [chicken stickers](https://store.line.me/stickershop/author/19787/en) and the [creatures (?) stickers](https://store.line.me/stickershop/author/870/en). (both are made by Japanese people, so now you know why they’re “that unique” xD)
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be longer than this, but I had another idea for the next one. I also want to talk more about our heroine, but I’m super sleepy so let’s save it for the next chapter (again). :’)
> 
> I was mulling over the title of the chapter: “The One Who Loves Her” or “The Ones Who Love Her”, therefore I have one question: who do you think loves her more? Ushi or Tsukki? If I don’t get 666 replies regarding this, the entire series will be discontinued (as if a slow update isn’t enough already). ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	37. Their Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you sure? What you don’t know won’t hurt you.” Without me expecting it, Kei joins the conversation. If his hands weren’t full of his towel and water bottle, then perhaps he would try to cover my ears from hearing any of these. Well, I guess he’s made a mistake because his words pique my interest even more.
> 
> “I’m sure,” I convince Kei before looking back at Kuroo. “Just tell me everything, Kuroo-senpai. Do you think I’ll commit suicide if I know about what absurdness they say about me? I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the slow update, but I’d like to say thank you for all of your answers in the previous chapter! :3 I thought some would notice how Ushijima sort of indirectly stated that he loves the heroine because:  
> ● _Heroine: “Who loves me more? Someone who forbids me from playing because they don’t want me to hurt myself or someone who allows me to play because they want me to be happy?” ___  
> ● _Ushijima: “I love you and I’ve been allowing you to play volleyball because I trust you. That means, someone who loves you more is someone who allows you to play. Just like me.” ___
> 
> Ah, never mind. I suck. :’(
> 
> Important!  
> 2 weeks ago, I finally edited all the old LINE chats into the new format and I found that many of the sticker links were corrupted. Next time you find something wrong with this story, please feel free to tell me so I can fix it ASAP. Don’t worry, I don’t bite. :3

* * *

_ Tou-san _  
_I never knew that Kei could be that persistent_

My vision is still hazy from waking up just under a minute ago, so I rub each one of my eyes with the back of my right hand as the other holds my phone tightly against my chest. Being abruptly yanked from a beautiful dream is never delightful, no matter if it’s Kiyoko who gently does it. My back and folded legs hurt to, but maybe it’s just another reason for me to hate this morning. Once I blink a couple of times and yawn as hard as I can to be more awake than before, I look back at my phone screen to read something about Kei and whatever that guy did to my father.

 _ Tou-san _  
_Last night he chatted me, saying that he wanted to talk to me about something very important_  
_I was shocked. I thought something happened to you, so I immediately called him_  
_Apparently oh apparently, he begged me to let you play volleyball again under his supervision_

I widen my eyes and my heart thumps with excitement. Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe it’s merely an unbeknownst feeling to me because I know Kei and never in my life have I imagined him doing something this sweet to someone. Not to his family, not to Yamaguchi, not even to himself because overall, he doesn’t really care about anything other than living and dying when the time comes.

 _ Tou-san _  
_I refused at first, but he kept pestering me_  
_^ this is not an overstatement_  
_It was almost 10 and I was so tired after coaching from morning, so I said that I needed more time to think and discuss about everything with your mother. I told him to contact me back the next morning_  
_Just 5 minutes ago he chatted and called me. I hadn’t spoken a word, but he instantly made a promise that he’d take care of you and he’d take any responsibility if something were to happen to you_  
_So fine, whatever_  
_Go play volleyball, surf, or fly a helicopter to your heart’s content, but know the risk and always listen to him_  
_And aren’t you a lucky girl to have someone who cares so much about you when your parents aren’t around?_  
_Don’t ever let him go ;)  
_

“…eh? Is this for real…?” I murmur to myself as my brain tries to process every single detail of my father’s explanation. Of course this isn’t a lie. My father can be the worst tease with one thousand cruel plans up his sleeve, but he would never use volleyball as an excuse to prank me. He’s not that insane.

“What’s wrong?”

“No, um…” I look behind me to find Yachi standing just a meter away while holding her white blanket with two hands. “I need to clean up fast.”

* * *

Since most of the managers are still cleaning their personal belongings in our room and the rest are busy fixing themselves in the toilet, I rush my way downstairs without anyone accompanying me. I’m at least ten minutes earlier than usual because I have someone in my mind whom I need to talk to as soon as possible. Right when I land my feet on the second floor, I look around to scan more than ten boys scattering all over the hallway, yet none is from Karasuno. I decide to walk to where their room is located and luckily for me, five seconds haven’t passed when I see Hinata coming out of the off-white door.

“Morning, Hinata. Where’s Kei?” I waste no time in asking, jogging slightly to lessen our distance.

“Tsukishima? He went downstairs a moment ago with Yamaguchi.” From the way Hinata drowsily stares at me, I can tell that he had a rough time separating himself from his pillow. I totally can relate to this one specific experience and it’s one of the main reasons why I can’t wait to enjoy my summer break back home.

“Okay, thanks. Don’t fall when you walk to the toilet.” I show him my right thumb before having my trip to the first floor. It seems like zero effort is involved during my search because when I’m halfway through the short steps, I can already see the blond I’m looking for with his best friend next to him. Both of their backs are facing me, but Bokuto and Akaashi who stand in front of them quickly notice my interruption. This makes everyone avert their eyes to me and I have to continue hoping down while being thoroughly scrutinized. A bit awkward, but there’s nothing I can do about this.

“Good morning,” Yamaguchi greets me first, followed by Akaashi who speaks the exact same two-words and Bokuto who can only nod his head without a sound. Same like the latter, Kei doesn’t let out a single syllable and I completely understand that. It’s not him to give a warm welcome. For as long as I remember, he has never even wished me a sweet dream or anything related to that.

“So, congratulations on being able to play again.” With a straight face, Akaashi reveals that he’s heard about my father’s decision. I move my feet closer to them and position myself between Bokuto and Kei, hands clasping each other near my lower back.

“Thank you so much, Akaashi-san. Did someone kindhearted tell you this?” I emphasize the word “kindhearted” while smiling at Akaashi’s direction, but it’s all for Kei who appears to be embarrassed upon hearing my question. At least that’s what I deduce from the way he furrows his eyebrows and throws his face to the left, to Yamaguchi who softy chuckles at this common view, as known as Tsukishima Kei being a _tsundere_.

“Yes, indeed. Just thirty seconds before you showed yourself,” Akaashi innocently answers and I suppose he has no idea that Kei doesn’t want him to be this forthright. How can I be sure about that? Because I know how Kei always wishes everyone to be able to read his mind. He wants the world to behave according to his expectation without him having to voice any opinion. Definitely selfish.

“I’m so happy for you, but you must be careful,” Yamaguchi reminds me of something that I’ve always known, so I just nod my head while forming a bright smile that compliments the morning weather. “And I have to say that sometimes Tsukki is very good at persuading someone. You’re a special girl.”

“Yamaguchi, shut up. Seriously. Just go to the cafeteria,” Kei snarls, ending it with a loud click of his tongue. I have no idea how else to react besides giggling while looking sideways at the embarrassed soul.

“Hahaha. Sorry and okay,” Yamaguchi excuses himself before stepping forward, leaving me with the other four boys.

“Let’s go, Bokuto-san. I thought you were hungry,” Akaashi adds and without waiting for any answer, he simply follows Yamaguchi. Bokuto seems to be bothered by something because he parts his mouth for a second—perhaps wanting to halt Akaashi from moving any further—but he closes it again, only to lock his eyes with mine. That’s when I get a gist of what’s wrong with him.

“Um, Hime-chan… are you still mad at me?” I haven’t gotten the chance to speak first when Bokuto finally questions one thing that I hope didn’t make him restless throughout the night. I prefer to see the cheerful version of him and people in general, rather than the sad one that’s good for nothing.

“Well…” I scratch the side of my head, eyes wandering away to the empty wall behind Bokuto. “I’m not mad. I just kind of develop a murderous desire toward you.”

“Murderous desire?!” Bokuto squeaks, voice cracking a bit. “Hime-chan, come on! Forgive me! What should I do?! Tsukki, help me!”

“Eh? Why should I?” Kei acts unconcerned by shrugging his shoulders, but I bet he enjoys playing around with Bokuto like this. He has a tendency of being psychotic and that’s not a mystery to everyone who knows his last name. One day is enough for us to learn about this dark part of him.

“I’ll forgive you, but there are some requirements. They aren’t that hard and you can do all of them tonight,” I provide him an alternative that I’ve used quite a few times to those who want to win my heart. I admit that I do this for my own entertainment. There’s literally no other reason and I somehow realize why I’m so attached to Kei. We both can be the best partners in crime in town.

“That’s fine.” Bokuto swings his head up and down as his round eyes become fifty percent wider.

“Okay. There’s a convenient store near this school, am I right? I really want to drink melon milk. The Pokka one. No one sells that in the vending machines around here, unlike back at Karasuno.” I deliberately change my tone to be higher and cuter so Bokuto’s heart will melt even more. “I’m also in the mood to eat some Pringles. The original flavor. I don’t really like the fifty kinds of variations they have.”

There’s a good ten seconds of Bokuto buffering in silence before he responds, “Are you asking me to buy you food and drink?”

“I’m not obliging you to buy them. I’m simply offering the only way to correctly apologize to me.” I swear I have to hold my laughter when Bokuto frowns like he’s currently solving a difficult mathematic equation that’s bound to branch for two pages long. He takes this matter with extra caution. It makes me wonder whether I must stop finding joy in teasing precious people, but I should know all along that I will never be able to repress myself.

“Okay, Hime-chan… How many?”

“Two cans of melon milk and one can of Pringles, please,” I decide, only to quickly correct myself, “Make the Pringles two. All original. Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

“Okay, noted.” Seemingly, Bokuto understands what he needs to do after his last practice at eight p.m. “Then I’ll go to the cafeteria now. See you later, Hime-chan. Tsukki too.”

“Bye-bye,” I wave my left hand just above my chest, sending Bokuto off with a dim smile.

“Are you serious? Is he your butler? That’s too much. You’re such a bully,” Kei ridicules me after Bokuto is at least five meters ahead of us.

“Pft. You don’t get to say that. Introspect your own personality.” I bring my hand down as I turn myself to the right, raising my head to face Kei and he does the same to me. “Anyway, I’m here because I want to talk about I-guess-you-know-what, but first thing first, why don’t I smell any vanilla? Yesterday was the same, wasn’t it? Why don’t you wear your perfume again?”

“It’s a waste. I’ll sweat in an hour from now.”

“That’s fine! You’ll still smell good!”

“Gross.” Kei narrows his eyes, giving me a judgmental gaze. “I was also mocked by Tanaka-san and Noya-san when I wore it two days ago. They accused me for being too girly. That’s annoying.”

“What? Hahaha! Why do you care about what they say? They only tease you. The others don’t mind. I don’t mind.” I don’t know which one I care about the most—my fondness of his unique scent, his contradictory side of getting irked for being teased when he likes to do the same to other people, or both. “Okay, fine. Whatever. So, about my father... He chatted me just when I woke up. I was so surprised. What exactly did you say to him?”

“You don’t have to know,” Kei shuts me down, like always.

“That’s fine. I can ask him later.”

“Do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, yeah, but Kei, thank you. I’m genuinely grateful for what you did. I went down earlier than Yachi and the rest because I wanted to meet you… and also—” I can’t finish my words as there are four people from Fukuroudani having their way downstairs and passing by us. All of their eyes are meeting mine and Kei’s. It won’t be pleasant for anyone to hear what I’m about to say, so all I can do is wait for a couple of seconds for them to leave.

“Also?”

“Wait…” I glance at the entrance to my left and when those boys are gone, I look back at Kei. “I want to say that I love you, Tsukki. To the moon and back.”

Kei expands his eyes as a reflexive reaction to my confession, but it’s not long for him to drag his eyes down. “Are you an elementary school student? Stop making a pun of my name and think that it’s hilarious. That’s disgusting to hear. Have I told you how often I get goosebumps from your corniness? Just stop.”

I roll my eyes clockwise and grunt. “Why are you always saying stuff you don’t mean? Have I told you how often I get sad from your wariness?”

“Your problem, not mine.”

“Yes, yes, I know you love me too.” I playfully graze his chin and he swiftly slaps my hand away. Then he glares down at me, but I choose to laugh at his ineffective effort in hiding his true feeling. If he loathes me, he’ll never be this nice. That alone is enough for me to feel cherished.

* * *

Unlike yesterday, today I don’t wear my shoulder support directly after the afternoon break ends. I learned that it could cause me such discomfort from the tightness and itchiness, thus when Karasuno and Nekoma finish their last match, I let Kiyoko and Yachi know that I need to take the said item from our room. I leave through the front door as the boys in my team have their way to the back door, since they lost from Nekoma and must face the penalty. It’ll be the last time they run during nighttime like this, so if I were them, I’d enjoy every passing minute while reflecting on my journey so far.

In the room, I don’t do anything other than putting on my shoulder support and retying my ponytail. Once I’m done, I saunter back to the third gym as I meet some boys who often smile at me. Kei and Hinata might not be done with the ritual for the losers, but Kuroo and Lev must’ve immediately gone out because their advisor isn’t someone who hyperbolizes much like Takeda. Even if I’m wrong, Bokuto and Akaashi should be there since Fukuroudani is so remarkable that they always finish first for every single night. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. I’ll be fine alone in the third gym because there’s no mass murderer lurking around the school.

“Oh?” I lift my eyebrows when I stand on the entrance of the big building. Everyone is present, except Bokuto and Akaashi. Kuroo, Lev, and Hinata are already playing with some balls in the middle of the court, while Kei is sitting on the sideline to my left, chugging from a bottle he brought from the first gym. How fast did he and Hinata run? Pretty sure I didn’t spend more than ten minutes in my room, but now that I think of it, normally it took us some time to be here because of the short review with Ukai. Probably they got none tonight.

“Hime-chan!” Kuroo spots me as he points his slender finger at my direction. “I’ll block you today!”

“Oh, really, Senpai? I’ll be waiting for that.” I point a finger back at him while smirking arrogantly, but of course jokingly. When he goes back to talking to Lev and Hinata, I walk to where I think I belong to the most. I mean only at this moment because I don’t feel that worthy to join Kuroo when he’s in the middle of tutoring his vibrant juniors.

“Did you take your shoulder support?” Kei asks as he drops his bottle near his stretched legs. They’re so long and shaped well. He can apply to become a professional model by tomorrow if he wants to. I guarantee he’ll get accepted at his first audition.

“Yes.” I seat myself right next to him, legs situated like his and it’s quite amusing to notice how the soles of my white sneakers only reach half of his calves. “Um, where are the other two? They were done practicing twenty minutes before us, weren’t they?”

“I bet they go to the convenience store for you.”

“Oh, that’s true,” I mumble, eyes gravely studying Kei’s white limbs. “Hey, just a frivolous question. Do you periodically wax your leg hair?”

“What the hell? Where did that come from?” Kei coarsely asks and I completely understand if he gets insulted by my words. It’s like I want to know if he collects seven kinds of lip glosses and wear corset under a tight tuxedo. Other guys will laugh and perhaps call me comical, but not someone egocentric like him.

“You don’t have a lot of hair, which is sort of weird for a guy this big.” I look at him, smiling ever so slightly, even when he doesn’t do the same to me. Not even the first part.

“Tsk. Is this necessary to be pondered about? At least my hair is longer than yours,” Kei glares at me from the peripheral of his eye. His glasses are a bit in the way, but I can perceive his fake angry expression quite well.

“Well, it’d be weirder if my hair were longer.” I bend my knees up until my thighs touch my plump chest, then I circle my arms around my legs. “Won’t you mind dating someone with hair longer than yours?”

“We’re not dating and can we just stop talking about hair on our body? Why don’t you act more like a girl? Be cute and still like a dool.”

I snigger and I put an amused look on my face. “I’m not specifically saying about us dating. Just a question about whether you’ll mind dating someone with hair leg longer than yours. She doesn’t have to be me, you—”

“Ah, Hime-chan! I forgot to tell you something!” Kuroo coincidently interrupts my speech as he walks to where I am. Both Kei and I give him a puzzled look, but it’s not because we don’t welcome him to our circle. At least, for me it’s not. He has a free access to bother me anytime he wants and I’ll gladly let him leap into my embrace. I’m crazy.

“What is it, Senpai?” I kindly allow him to say whatever he wants to say as he squats in front of me, leaving only less than half a meter gap before our nose touch each other. I legit want to scream. I don’t know how to conduct myself with dignity if he’s this close to me. All I can do is create an international petition to make someone this beautiful illegal from the rest of humanity. Why? Because they make other humans having trouble breathing only by existing and that’s way more dangerous than any kinds of hazardous smokes.

“Do you know my substitute setter? The one that looks like Tanaka from your team.” He folds his arms and hides them between his chest and thighs. I wonder what kind of activity he does besides volleyball because he’s quite muscled. Whenever he stands beside Kei, it’s like seeing a Greek God with an anchovy. Not fair.

“Your substitute setter... Know the face, don’t know the name.” I shake my head and granted, I do this ninety percent just to look adorable for Kuroo. When I check on Kei, he doesn’t seem to notice this, so I feel a bit relieved because I don’t have to hear his mockeries as to how fake I behave sometimes.

“His name’s Abe and he gave me permission to say this to you…” Kuroo dimly smiles and I have the urge to buy him a mask to cover his face from ruining my heart even further. “Well, he’s been talking a lot about you lately and he wants me to get him your LINE ID. So, will you give it?”

“Uh, no. If he’s a gentleman, he should ask himself,” I promptly refuse with a bonus advice, albeit not entirely needed because this is basic manner. Next time this Abe guy should tell his brother to marry his girlfriend in his place.

“That’s true. I told him the same thing too, but he’s such a timid guy. You also have a boyfriend this nice-looking, so everybody’s told him that he stands no chance. He’s not that tall either. Don’t you like tall guy, Hime-chan?”

Slowly, but surely, I bob my head. “I have some twelve-centimeter high heels and when I wear them, I want my boyfriend to still be taller. So… he should at least be one hundred eighty-five.”

“Ah, is that so? Do you have a lot of tall exes?” Kuroo crookedly smirks, proving me that he’s activated his nosy mode.

“No, I don’t have any exes!” I brush away any of Kuroo’s baseless assumptions, whatever that may be.

“So, Tsukki is your first? How lovely!”

“Uh, then what about you, Senpai?” I hastily change the topic because I don’t know how to speak about me and Kei without revealing that we aren’t dating for real—which will lead to a longer conversation and nobody wants that. “Are you… single by chance?”

“Mhm. I’ve been single and happy for almost eighteen years.”

“But you’re so cool! You must be popular with ladies in your school!” I fluently praise him before I suddenly get embarrassed at my uncontrollable frankness. I hope he doesn’t label me as a freak from now on. I’ve done good so far and I have to maintain this image forever.

“Popular, eh? I don’t think I’m that popular… but sometimes some girls will randomly show up to confess. I’m simply not interested in dating anyone at the moment. As you can see, I have one million things on my shoulders, so I don’t even have the time to catch a glimpse of girls around me. Most of my teammates and classmates are also single. I guess this is the reason why Japanese birth rate keeps shrinking.” Kuroo looks like he’s smiling with his feline-like eyes. “Why are you so curious, Hime-chan? Once you’re available, do you want me to be your next boy—hahaha, Tsukki! No need to roll your eyes like that! I’m just kidding!”

I move my eyes to Kei and right away scowl when I find him looking so irritated by Kuroo who’s done nothing but being gorgeous. He always gets jealous over nothing. I won’t be surprised if one day he’ll hate our own children for being too clingy to me, their own mother—if in case we do get married in seven years. I don’t know why I want to puke. Yesterday morning I was so optimistic and elated as I felt that exchanging a ring with him wouldn’t be that bad, but now I want to take my words back. Marrying him is only good if I need to shed two hundred kilograms out of my body without exercise or strict diet plan.

“I don’t care. You can use her however you want. Just treat her some of her favorite food and she’ll fall for you like a starving stray dog.” As always, Kei can’t let out nice words out of his mouth. Calling me a cat would be so much politer than a dog.

“Eh? Are you into sharing your girlfriend with someone else?” Kuroo seems to consider Kei’s verbal abuse as one great joke, hence it’s my turn to roll my eyes. No matter how bright and handsome someone is, if they can’t back up that God-given gifts with respectful attitude, then everything is pointless. I wish Kei would understand that because his face is way above average.

“We’re back!”

Just when I’m about to retaliate the insults with something smarter, Bokuto enters the gym with two medium-sized bag in each of his sturdy hands. Akaashi follows him from behind with a bigger one and it looks so stretched from the heaviness inside—presumably several liters of liquids—and there’s a high probability for the handles to be ripped in any minute. I’m intrigued to know all the things they bought. It must be more than my request since two small cans of melon milk and two slim cans of Pringles would only cost them one bag, not three.

“What did they buy…?” Kei whispers the same thing as the one in my mind.

“Hime-chan, this is yours.” Before either me or Kuroo can reply to Kei, Bokuto already walks closer to us and he offers me the bag in his right hand. “I bought some other snacks and drinks. If anyone wants it, you can always ask me or Akaashi.”

“Thank you so much, Bokuto-san!” I exclaim as I happily place the bag on my lap, opening it without wasting a second and taking out one of the two drinks. It’s still cold and I’m content with that.

“You’re welcome, Hime-chan. Am I completely forgiven?” It’s cute to see how Bokuto desperately needs an answer to validify our relationship before moving an inch away from me.

I pull the tab of the can in my left hand before smiling broadly. “You are completely forgiven.”

* * *

The practice goes as smooth as yesterday, only that this time, we stay longer until nine thirty. Just like I’ve anticipated, Kuroo’s able to keep soft blocking me, Kei can only do it once in a blue moon, while Lev is just beyond saving—he doesn’t even know which direction to jump to. Twice, Hinata tries to switch to the other team and who would’ve thought that he’s worse than Lev in terms of logic in blocking? I surely have, therefore I don’t really pay any special attention to the little guy because I know that I can always blast through his attempt to reduce my momentum. Dealing me with requires more than techniques, heights, and prayers.

“Nice job, Hime-chan,” Bokuto commends me as the seven of us walk out of the third gym with all the bottles, towels, and plastic bags. We don’t want to get any preach from leaving trash and we have a conscience to clean up without being told.

“Thanks. You rocked too,” I respond to his sweet remark with the same one. He hasn’t done anything nettlesome for the past hour and a half, so I don’t have any solid reason to be hostile to him like before. I’m full of forgiveness.

“Anyway, Hime-chan.” Kuroo who walks several meters behind me suddenly stands to my left, just on the other side of Kei who has his default place on my right.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” My eyes travel between his face and the silver-cased phone in his hands. I wonder what he’s currently reading because he looks so concentrated on the screen and not to me who’s willing to start a staring contest with him. I’ll most likely lose after three seconds, but it’ll be the most wonderful downfall I’ve ever had.

“Do you know this journalist named Kusakabe Nori?” he asks, still keeping his head down.

“Kusakabe Nori? Doesn’t he work as a news anchor for J-Sports?” I ask back.

“No, he left around half a year ago.” Bokuto who’s a meter ahead of me chimes in without turning his body around.

“Oh. I don’t know anything about him. Only his name. Why?” My voice sounds so composed, but deep down, I kind of feel like I’ll regret what I’m about to hear.

“Seriously?! You don’t know him?!” Kuroo yelps and at last, his eyes meet mine. “I’m one hundred percent sure that he’s the first person who gave you this ‘the Cursed Princess’ nickname. The news about your accident were broadcasted for days on J-Sports and I watched them. He didn’t appear to have any sympathy. I mean… sure he did say about how shocking to hear about what happened to you, but then he talked about how your volleyball career would end and that you would no longer be the volleyball princess everybody adores. I didn’t know you personally back then, but I felt hurt by his words and I swear, I wanted to throw a table to his face.”

“Oh, I see.” I sourly chuckle. “I got pretty lucky that people around me never talked about the bad news they heard or read. My parents taught me to stay away from the media and to never Google myself, so yeah… I didn’t know about this. That’s fine if you wang to tell me now, though. As you can see, I’m a warrior now.”

“Are you sure? What you don’t know won’t hurt you.” Without me expecting it, Kei joins the conversation. If his hands weren’t full of his towel and water bottle, then perhaps he would try to cover my ears from hearing any of these. Well, I guess he’s made a mistake because his words pique my interest even more.

“I’m sure,” I convince Kei before looking back at Kuroo. “Just tell me everything, Kuroo-senpai. Do you think I’ll commit suicide if I know about what absurdness they say about me? I won’t.”

“Okay. So, after he left J-Sports, he built this website under his name. It’s one of the most popular sport sites in this country, albeit it’s not even a year old. I know many people hate him as a person, but truth be told, this site is a good site. A lot of his news are credible, but yeah… seems like he wrote an article about last night, Hime-chan. Usually, it’s his worker who would write, but for some reasons, Kusakabe wanted the privilege to write about you after a while. Want to read it?”

As soon as I nod, Kuroo hands me his phone that’s a bit hot. I take a deep breath because this will officially be the first time I ever read stuff written about me by a random journalist, reporter, or whoever. For around ten months, I’ve kept my heart and mind safe from getting corrupted by some fabricated stories that might haunt me because I know strangers would read and believe them, but who cares anymore? Just like Kuroo said yesterday, I mustn’t be that afraid. If they taunt me, I’ll cynically laugh and make them scared of me. I have the power to do that.

The title of the article is _[L/N] [F/N]’s Comeback to Volleyball World_. I think I should be happy that I sound like a J-pop artist, but I should be unhappy because it was as if I retired out of nowhere and left millions of fans questioning my living status. Or even worse was that I was gone in the middle of a big tour, resulting my recording company to lose hundreds of millions of yen. Now should I be thankful that at least he didn’t write my beloved nickname in the headline? I want to cry out tears of happiness, but then I scroll down and read the very first paragraph of the news.

_[L/N] [F/N], a 15-year-old volleyball star who’s been hiding her existence from the media for more than nine months was the talk of Japan last night when a video of her playing volleyball hit Twitter by storm. Bokuto Koutarou, a 17-year-old volleyball captain from Tokyo’s Fukuroudani was the one who posted the video on his account, @bokuto_koutarou. It’s been heard that the girl who’s well-known as the Cursed Princess from Miyagi is attending Karasuno High School in Torono, but it’s unknown whether she’s joining the school’s female volleyball club and what’s her real connection with Fukuroudani._

“Ugh, unimportant!” I give the phone back to Kuroo with rage. “I saw hundreds have already shared this article on their social media! Why would people care so much about me?! I’m not Utada Hikaru! We should care more about her comeback than mine! Will she sing for Kingdom Hearts three?! Does Kingdom Hearts three really exist or do we need to wait for two point eleven HD?!”

“And then you said you’d be fine knowing about this…” Kei mutters a disappointment in between his attempt to hold his laughter upon me complaining about video games and I growl. What I meant was that I won’t get depressed or cry over people craving to hear about me, but there’s no way this doesn’t creep me out. If Kei were me, he would understand. It’s always just like what he said—what they don’t know, won’t hurt them. They’ll never truly understand what they haven’t experienced first-hand.

“But can he just use Bokuto-san’s video like that? Doesn’t he need a permission?” Hinata asks as he jogs from somewhere behind me to Bokuto’s left, leaving Akaashi alone. I don’t mind slowing down so I can walk side by side with the beautiful setter, but I don’t have any good reason to do that.

“Professionally and morally, he should, but this is internet. Everyone can share and re-share anything they want. Once you post something, it’s for public consumption, unless if you’re an artist who wants to protect your copyright. Even that can always be illegally stolen without you knowing,” Akaashi explains in detail and it makes all of us look so stupid.

“Just don’t let this bother you, Hime-chan. What’s important is that you’re awesome,” Kuroo advises and soothes me at the same time.

“That I know,” I nonchalantly reply and everyone cackles, excluded Kei and Akaashi who choose to faintly stretch the corners of their mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeks ago I said that I wanted to talk more about our heroine, but I kept procrastinating because that’s what most people do best. To be specific, I wanted to talk about how I created her injury and finally here’s the time. xD
> 
> Back in middle school, I had this 40-year-old male PE teacher who couldn’t lift his left arm. It could only go straight and then down like normal. He could jump, run, do headstand—basically, he could do all except for swimming. One day, we didn’t ask but he told us that he had a motorcycle accident just a few weeks before his graduation from university (he attended PE teaching major or whatever that was). So, it was motorcycle vs. motorcycle and he broke his left shoulder pretty badly. In the end, he had to do his final exam, including swimming. Since he couldn’t, his lecturer told him to just dive and he got his diploma. Yay!
> 
> When I crafted the entire plotline for this series, I did intend to give the heroine a major accident and I remembered this teacher. Some people would maybe be like “oh, we thought you created the reader based on yourself”. Nah, nah, never. I can’t quite relate to this strong female character since I’m merely a piece of potato who’s trying to be relevant in this world. I had some accidents but it was never to the point of me losing my future—and getting loved by someone like Tsukki and Ushi in the process. I wish dayum. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> And… at first, I actually planned this series to be Kuroo x reader x Tsukki (reader would end up with Kuroo) and I wanted Ushi to have his own story. Fortunately, I couldn’t come up with a satisfying idea, so I changed Kuroo into Ushi. Everything happened in 3 days because I’d like to think that the only good quality about me is how fast I can brainstorm. :’(
> 
> That’s it, I guess? Thank you for reading and I’ll try my best to update the next chapter soon. Stay healthy, everyone~


	38. Their Last Night: Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, what’s wrong? You look… sad? I don’t know. What’s wrong? Tell me, please?” I beg him and it comes out akin to a crying kitten. “Ushijima-san… You care so much about me and you told me that I can always come to you when I don’t feel okay, so you can do the same to me. Please?”
> 
> “I’m just disappointed at myself,” he confesses, fingers stroking his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started writing the chapter about the last day of the summer training camp (that Bokuto’s emo mode), something definitely bugged my mind. I wondered if I missed a part of this story and I was like: “OH YEAH!!! There are some scenes that I should’ve written in the previous chapter, but forgot.” :p
> 
> **Anyway, a very quick information since the only people who know about this are those who asked in the comments and that’s entirely my fault for not announcing it publicly since months ago:**
> 
> I’m going to write two endings for both Tsukki and Ushi, so you don’t have to worry about who wins who. I already have the plot line(s) written out and it’s going to be quite long. Both of the boys will still appear. The only thing that I can safely reveal now is that Tsukki will be mentally and physically broken if his first love ends up with another guy, while Ushi will try his best to be “fine”.
> 
> But allow me to say that I do know the canon-ending or who should end up with the heroine. Although if I’m not in the right mood, I’ll just make her end up with Kuroo. #OhYeah
> 
> Happy reading and good luck to everyone who’s having their finals now! Study hard, but don’t study too hard! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

* * *

_ Tendou _  
_Does anyone have any movie recommendation for this summer? 2:34 PM_  
_Horror is preferable, old movie is okay, but it must have beautiful actresses 2:34 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_I wonder if there’s a vintage horror AV… 2:36 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_ 2:36 PM  
Oh my God, you’re still underage! 2:36 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Just google it yourself. What’s hard about that? 2:36 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_How cold of you, Eita-kun! 2:36 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Well, that’s a realistic advice -_- 2:36 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Why do you like horror movie that much? Aren’t you ever scared? 2:36 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_I am, but it’s a “good” scared 2:36 PM  
2:36 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Good…? 2:37 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_“I Know Who Killed Me Last Summer” 2:37 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_What?_  
_Is that a movie title? 2:37 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Yes 2:37 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_That’s quite a unique title 2:37 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_I don’t trust you, Taichi 2:37 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_I’ve heard about that movie. If I’m not mistaken, it’s from 2000-ish 2:37 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Oh. Is it good? 2:37 PM_  
_Who’s the actress? 2:37 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_I have no idea. I’ve never watched it before 2:37 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Lindsay Lohan is the leading actress 2:37 PM_  
_The movie isn’t that good, but I think you’ll like it 2:37 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Are you saying that I have bad taste? 2:37 PM  
2:38 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_I give you kindness and you give me suspicion 2:38 PM  
I’m forever hurt 2:38 PM  
2:38 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Those stickers are corresponding each other :D 2:38 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Google is your best friend, slug 2:38 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_^ 2:38 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Slug?! Why are you so mean?! I didn’t do anything to you! 2:38 PM_  
_Wait, the queen is calling me 2:38 PM  
2:38 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_“The queen” 2:38 PM_  
_If she were my mother, I would get roasted alive inside the oven 2:39 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Hahaha 2:39 PM_  
_Anyway, are you all free? 2:39 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Why? 2:39 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_I’m free. Do you have a new place to hang out, Reon-san? 2:39 PM  
2:39 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_I found this cheap café 2:39 PM_  
_<http://honokacoffee.com/>_ _ 2:39 PM  
We’ve never been there, so want to try it out? 2:39 PM_  
_Let’s all go, except Tendou because he’s in Yokohoma 2:39 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Reon-san, if 1200 yen is considered cheap for a cup of coffee, then a slave like me doesn’t deserve to even be in the same group chat as you 2:40 PM_  
_I should just die and rot 2:40 PM  
2:40 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_With 1200 yen, we can get 3kgs of rice 2:40 PM  
2:40 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Wait, you’re right 2:40 PM_  
_1 cup of coffee is around 1200 yen? There’s even one that’s up to 7000 yen 2:40 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Read properly, guys 2:40 PM_  
_That 7000 yen is for 50 packs, so 1 cup will be for 140 yen 2:40 PM_  
_The 1200 yen is for 200gr 2:40 PM_  
_Normally we need 10gr for a cup of coffee, so it’ll be for 20 cups 2:40 PM_  
_Each cup is 60 yen 2:41 PM_  
_Tax included 2:41 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Wow, you know a lot 2:41 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_I like coffee 2:41 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_There are so many numbers and I… haven’t even opened my math homework 2:41 PM_  
_Thank you for reminding me of my doomed fate, Reon-san 2:41 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to 2:41 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_I don’t know why Kawanishi-san always does his homework 1 day before the deadline 2:41 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_I’m good under pressure and that’s why I’m a middle blocker 2:41 PM  
2:41 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Wakatoshi is 24/7 available for tutoring 2:41 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Yes. I can help 2:42 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_You’re here all the time?! 2:42 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Yes, but I didn’t know what to say 2:42 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_What about the part of going to Honoka Coffee? 2:42 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_I don’t mind if it’s 150 yen for a cup of good coffee 2:42 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Do they have snacks too? 2:42 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_According to their Facebook, they do sell some traditional breads, all around 250 yen 2:42 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_Way cheaper than Starbucks 2:42 PM_  
_I don’t mind then 2:42 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Okay, I’ll go 2:42 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_I’ll go too 2:42 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Me too! 2:42 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_So: Me, Eita, Taichi, Wakatoshi, Tsutomu 2:43 PM_  
_How about Kenjirou and Hayato? 2:43 PM_  
_Wakatoshi, where’s Hayato? 2:43 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_He’s sleeping. He stayed up the entire morning to play games 2:43 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Hahaha, typical him 2:43 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_I’ll try waking him up 2:43 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_What? No, Wakatoshi. That guy is untouchable when he’s sleeping. H_ _e’s going to kick you like last year’s training camp 2:43 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Oh. You’re right 2:43 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_I’ll go only if someone will help me with my science homework 2:43 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Shirabu Kenjirou: An Expected Journey 2:43 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_Sorry that unlike you, I care about getting a good grade 2:43 PM_  
_You said you also need to do your math homework 2:44 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Isn’t that supposed to be The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey? 2:44 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_It is, Ushijima-san 2:44 PM  
_

_ Semi _  
_That’s the joke, Wakatoshi 2:44 PM  
_

“Why are you giggling like that? What’s funny?”

I raise my head as I automatically lock the phone in my hands. There I see Kei standing in front of his room with earphones in his right hand, just three meters away from where I lean my back against a huge window. Without waiting for my answer, he walks forward to hand me what he holds. I smile at him, murmuring a faint thank you before accepting the item. I don’t know why he strokes my temple afterward, but I’m sure he isn’t ashamed of doing this because there are only three people in this hallway and all of them are not even looking at our direction.

“Just… reading Goshiki _’_ s chat. He _’_ s telling me a funny story about his teacher,” I finally give an answer after his palm leaves the surface of my skin. This lie doesn’t sound like one for I’ve gone through the same pattern countless times.

“His teacher at Shiratorizawa?”

I chuckle because Kei’s question is simply dumb. “The last time I checked, he’s still attending that school.”

“Hm, I see,” he briefly responds. “I’ll take a shower now and you must give the earphones back in fifteen minutes.”

“Thirty minutes,” I demand with a squeaky voice, attempting to gain his permission. “Kei, thirty minutes… Okay?”

“Twenty.” He smugly smirks and that’s when I realize that he’s just messing up with me. I have to leave now if I don’t want to lose a quarter of the limitation given to me.

“Don’t be a meanie. See you in twenty-nine minutes.” I swing his earphones around the left side of my head and walk away. I don’t look back to check on what he’s doing, but from the sound of a door slamming behind me, I can presume that he’s entered his room to grab all the things he needs for cleaning himself. As I take my way downstairs, I unlock my phone and continue to read this uproar in Shiratorizawa’s group chat.

_Ushijima_  
_Ah_  
_I’ll help you with your homework, Shirabu 2:44 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Really? Thank you, Ushijima-san 2:44 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_How about me, Ushijima-san? 2:44 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_You too 2:44 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Thank you, Ushijima-san 2:44 PM  
2:44 PM  
2:44 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Don’t kowtow to me_  
_Only do it when you need to apologize to your boss after you make a big mistake, so you won’t get fired 2:44 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Oh, okay… 2:45 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_You little kids 2:45 PM_  
_Don’t take your captain’s beautiful heart for granted -_- 2:45 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_What? I’m not 2:45 PM  
B_ _ut as social beings by nature, we always need to lend a hand to support each other 2:45 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Tsutomu, aren’t you going to ask help from Wakatoshi too? He’s very smart, you know 2:45 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_No. I can do my homework by myself 2:45 PM_  
_I’ll be better in math than you, Ushijima-san 2:45 PM_  
_Just watch me 2:45 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Watch you? 2:45 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Watch me getting smarter than you in math and all the other classes, even music and art 2:45 PM_  
_I’ll beat you in volleyball too! 2:45 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay, good luck. I know you can do it 2:46 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Yes, I know! 2:46 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_I feel like I’ve read this specific exchange at least 1000 times before 2:46 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Hahaha, this joke never grows old 2:46 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Joke?! I’m super serious! 2:46 PM_  
_ 2:46 PM  
_

_Kawanishi  
How adorable  2:46 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Taichi you swine! 2:48 PM  
2:48 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_And what did I do this time? 2:48 PM  
_

_Tendou _  
_I just came back and googled your movie title 2:48 PM_  
_<http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0897361/> 2:49 PM_  
_<http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119345/> 2:49 PM_  
_You mixed two titles into one 2:49 PM_  
_And they don’t even have good ratings 2:49 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_It was a pure mistake 2:49 PM  
2:49 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Like I’ll believe that! 2:49 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_You two are always like this 2:49 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_The last one even has two sequels! 2:49 PM_  
_<http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0130018/> 2:49 PM_  
_<http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0469111/> 2:49 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_When will we go to that café? 2:50 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Now? 2:50 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_I’ll go there now 2:50 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Should we really leave Yamagata? 2:50 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Try to wake him up if you want to 2:50 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay 2:50 PM_  
_I just checked the address 2:50 PM_  
_It’s only 10 minutes away from our school 2:50 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Don’t run -_- 2:51 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_No. I’m just saying 2:51 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Huh, enjoy your day guys 2:51 PM_  
_I’ll just spend my day watching these movies because I have no friends in my hometown 2:51 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Always be grateful with what you have 2:51 PM_  
_You’ll miss them when they’re gone 2:51 PM  
_

_ Tendou  
2:51 PM  
2:51 PM  
2:51 PM  
 2:51 PM _

_Semi  
Those are very disturbing, Tendou  2:51 PM  
Stop -_- 2:51 PM  
_

_Tendou  
Just go, people~ Have fun~  2:52 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_Yamagata woke up 2:57 PM_  
_I’m going there with him now 2:57 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Okay 2:57 PM_  
_I’ll be there in less than 15 minutes 2:57 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_I’m here and Shirabu’s been here for 10 minutes with a big bicycle that I believe belongs to his mother 3:05 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Was that last part necessary? 3:06 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Now I see Ushijima-san and Yamagata-san, scaring 140cm middle school girls who walk past them 3:06 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Can you not make them sound like sexual offenders? 3:06 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_ 3:07 PM_  
_Why are you always criticizing me? 3:07 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Tendou, just go watch your movies 3:07 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Thank you for defending me, Semi-san 3:07 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_I’m not 3:07 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Oh… 3:07 PM  
_

_Tendou  
 3:07 PM_

_Reon_  
_[Created an album.] 3:59 PM  
_

Just after I press on the album to see what kind of food and drink these people had, I look at the darkness around me and notice that I’ve arrived near the bench I sat on yesterday. Without hesitating even a bit, I rest my lower body on top of the wooden planks and it truly feels amazing. Today I practiced harder and longer than yesterday, so no wonder if my fatigue is more than usual. Once I’m sure that no one will bother me for the next twenty-five minutes, I begin to scroll through all the pictures on my screen. There are a total of forty-six of them and all their happy faces force me to smile.

_Tendou_  
_Are you showing off? 3:52 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_No. I’m sending them here like usual so everyone can download them 3:52 PM_  
_The place’s good 3:52 PM_  
_Too bad you missed it, Satori 3:52 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Huh 3:52 PM  
_

And that’s their last chat of the day. Tendou might be too absorbed in his movies, while the others just went back to their own place and task. Perhaps Shirabu was the most stressful one as he had to keep crisping his brain over his homework. Now I do get some personal messages from Goshiki and Ushijima, but since I have the same thing to tell them in mind, I consider it’s more efficient for me to use the group. It’s like killing eight birds with one stone.

_Me_  
_ 10:08 PM Hello~_  
_ 10:08 PM Did you all have a great day?_

_Tendou_  
_Hime-chan! I miss you! 10:08 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Hey there 10:08 PM  
_

_Kawanishi  
 10:08 PM_

_Tendou_  
_Seems like we’re the only ones who are still awake 10:08 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:09 PM Hey, hey~_

_Ushijima_  
_Hey, why are you replying here but not to my chat? 10:09 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:09 PM No, wait_  
_ 10:09 PM I want to tell everyone something first_

_Ushijima_  
_Okay? 10:09 PM_  
_Sorry, I just want to make sure that you’re not ignoring me because I did something wrong again 10:09 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:09 PM No, no!_

_Tendou_  
_ 10:09 PM_  
_What is it, Hime-chan? 10:09 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:09 PM So, my parents allowed me to play volleyball again_

_Tendou_  
_Really??? 10:09 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_You’re not lying, are you? 10:09 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:09 PM Wait, let me capture my father’s chat_

_Semi_  
_Okay 10:10 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:10 PM [Sent a picture.]_  
_ 10:10 PM [Sent a picture.]_  
_ 10:10 PM See? :D_

_Tendou_  
_Kei??? 10:11 PM_  
_Who’s Kei??? 10:11 PM_  
_What’s your relationship with him??? 10:11 PM  
10:11 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:11 PM Just a friend_  
_ 10:11 PM He’s a regular in my team and my classmate too_

_Tendou_   
_What??? How convenient!!! 10:11 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:11 PM What do you mean?_

_Tendou_  
_Do you like him, Hime-chan??? 10:11 PM_  
_Eiji-kun seems to like him so much!!! 10:12 PM  
10:12 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Tendou, calm down -_- 10:12 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Why??? 10:12 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:12 PM No, we’re no more than close friends, but my father takes it differently_  
_ 10:12 PM He’s always like that_  
_ 10:12 PM He thought Goshiki was my boyfriend when I first mentioned him_

_Kawanishi_  
_Goshiki? Seriously? 10:12 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:12 PM Yes  
10:12 PM Freak, right?  
_

_Semi_  
_I see 10:12 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_But, Hime-chan!!!!!!!!! You don’t like him, right????????? Not even a bit????????? 10:12 PM  
10:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:13 PM No, I don’t_

_Tendou_  
_Will you ever like him in the future????????? 10:13 PM  
10:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:13 PM Stop asking me this Tendou-san_  
_ 10:13 PM I’m going to get angry -_-_

 _ Tendou  
 10:13 PM _

_Kawanishi_  
_Why are you fighting everyone, Tendou-san? 10:13 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Shut up 10:13 PM_  
_Anyway, Wakatoshi-kun, aren’t you going to call her? 10:13 PM  
_

_Ushijima_  
_I will now 10:13 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Have fun, you two 10:13 PM  
_

_Semi_  
_Have fun 10:13 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Have fun 10:13 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:14 PM Thanks?_  
_ 10:14 PM Sorry, I don’t know how to reply to that XD_

Right after I send my last sentence, a video call comes in from Ushijima. I hurriedly plug the earphones that’s been coiling around my left hand and wear them in both ears before pressing the green button on my screen. I gradually beam when I spot Ushijima’s face as I realize that the background today is different. He appears to lie on his bed and hold his phone quite high so I can see the top of his head down to his chest. I may sound too overly confident when stating this, but I sort of think that I know him very well to perceive something off with his facial expression.

“Hello, Ushijima-san,” I greet the big guy with a cheerful voice, but when I don’t get a “hello” back, my tone quickly falters. “Hey, you seem tired. What’s wrong? Was the night practice rough? Did your coach yell at you?”

“Ah, no. Sorry.” Using the sole power of his right hand, he brings himself up. I can clearly notice that his pale brown shirt is too tight for his growing physique. I really want to tell him to buy a new stock before he goes to France since it won’t be pleasant if all of his shirts are ripped apart when he’s there. Unfortunately, I have a more important topic to be talked about.

“No, what’s wrong? You look… sad? I don’t know. What’s wrong? Tell me, please?” I beg him and it comes out akin to a crying kitten. “Ushijima-san… You care so much about me and you told me that I can always come to you when I don’t feel okay, so you can do the same to me. Please?”

“I’m just disappointed at myself,” he confesses, fingers stroking his forehead.

I lift one of my eyebrows, feeling even more puzzled than before. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t do what Tsukishima Kei did for you. I’m sorry.”

“…what?” I laugh for only a second because I’m unsure if this is the proper reaction to have. “What are you talking about? Why are you apologizing when you didn’t even do anything wrong?”

“I have your parents’ LINE. I could’ve contacted them and asked them to allow you to play, but I didn’t. I didn’t think that far.” Ushijima narrows his eyes and looks extremely distressed over yet another crime he didn’t commit.

“Eh?” I confusedly frown. “Are you blaming yourself?”

“I am.”

The dents on my forehead get deeper. “But you weren’t obliged to help me.”

“Do I need to be obliged to help you?” He stares right into my eyes with such earnestness. “For me, making you happy is a duty.”

“But, that’s…” How pathetic of me for failing to form one soothing sentence to end this conversation. I’m speechless and I’m clueless. I made a mistake on wording what I thought would be an assurance to his heart. There are a few things that I have in mind—such as “that’s fine” and “you can’t do anything about that”, but none sounds valid enough. All I do seem to add more harm than good. All I say seem to increase this suffocating tension surrounding us, but the only other choice I have is to end the call and there’s no way I’ll go that way.

“Please don’t feel bad. It’s not your fault. I don’t like seeing you sad. You were joyful when you said hello to me,” Ushijima reminds me that our cameras are still turned on and he doesn’t appreciate the face I’m currently showing.

“Same thing can be said to you. It’s not your fault and I don’t like seeing you sad either…” I bite my lower lip, wondering if what I’m about to say will prick his inferiority instead of easing it, but I know that I can’t foolishly hold my tongue forever. “Ushijima-san, listen… No matter what you did, you wouldn’t be able to tell my father that you could keep me safe because as you can see… unlike Kei… you’re not here…”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I wasn’t useful. I didn’t do anything for you.”

“Stop! What is wrong with you?” I shout as I feel my heart deeply aches, but once I see Ushijima looking a bit startled by my sudden outburst, I try the best I can to continue speaking in the calmest way possible. “Stop saying that… You’ve done so many wonderful things, so how dare you say that you never made me happy? How about you giving me your phone battery? Buying me ice cream? Listening to a very long speech about my day? There are many more things we can do together. It’s just that we aren’t physically next to each other, so some things are impossible by default.”

“I’m sorry,” Ushijima faintly apologizes. “I’m just thinking that you should’ve been here. You should’ve come and stayed closer as our manager. Goshiki would’ve been thrilled to have you here.”

“As your manager? You want me to become your manager?” I have the urge to repeat his words over and over again since this is the first time I’ve ever heard this kind of request.

“Yes. One of reasons why I want you to still enroll to Shiratorizawa is because I want you to become our manager. We’ve never had one because most girls aren’t serious. Semi said that they only want to flirt with the boys. I know you aren’t like that.”

I strenuously sigh. “We’ve had this talk before, haven’t we? I don’t want to go to the school that cancelled my scholarship because it’s as if I’m too desperate to be there. I’ve had enough of people trash talking behind my back.”

“You let your pride control you. No matter what other people say, you’ll always be better than them.”

I almost roll my eyes, but luckily, I remember that I can’t act too insensitive toward someone like Ushijima. “Sorry that I’m not as carefree as you.”

“Are you happy being in Karasuno?” he jumps into another absurd question.

“It’s okay,” I answer nonchalantly, but cautiously. “But, wait. Before you say anything… It’s not like I’d be one hundred percent happy if I were at your school. It won’t matter if I can’t join a volleyball team. You should know that.”

“Yes. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Ushijima turns to be gloomier and I’m officially depressed. I don’t know what to do to make him normal. Should I create a pun? He won’t understand. Should I be a clown? That won’t help either.

“I admit, you’re a bit strange tonight. I told you there’s nothing to worry about.” I lift my chin, staring at the blank sky above me. “I’m sorry that I yelled at you. I didn’t mean it. I can be so moody sometimes.”

“I want us to physically be next to each other.”

Swiftly, I drop my head down and let our eyes meet through the glass. “What?”

“I want us to wear the same uniform. I want to help you do your summer homework. I want to carry your bags when we shop together for our weekly supply. I want to walk you home if you’re not living in the dorm. I really want all of these to happen.” He cutely slants his head sideways and keeps studying my face, as if he tries to decipher a hidden cryptogram there. “Does my feeling bother you?”

I’m stunned and that’s the only reason why I can’t properly let out a single alphabet. His feeling doesn’t bother me at all, but mine does. I sense some heat gathering all over my head, especially the area around my cheeks, neck, and ears. It’ll be helpful if rain suddenly comes to cool me down before I steam and die on the spot. What more can I say? This guy is dangerous. He’s sweet, straightforward, and passionate. The problem is that I’m not experienced with someone like him. I’m afraid of getting a heart attack at least ten times a day. My parents won’t even be there to save me.

“W-well, we can still do all of those things, beside me wearing Shiratorizawa’s uniform because I don’t have one and even if you lend me, I’m not going to do any cosplay,” I try to react so naturally, even when my heart is about to burst open. “Aren’t we planning to go on a date next week? When the night comes, you can walk me home. You can also help me with my summer homework. Okay?”

“What about the part of us shopping together?” he genuinely asks and I giggle.

“We can do that too. Maybe not in the same day, but it’s not like one of us will die anytime soon. In short, I’ll go on so many dates with you as long as you promise to treat me well.”

“I promise.” His face brightens up. “I will never wrong you in any way and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” I simultaneously expand my eyes and mouth. “Will you buy me a car?”

“…a car?” He goes quiet for a moment with a baffled look framing his face before softly replying, “I don’t have a lot of money right now. I can’t even buy you a scooter.”

His pureness makes me decide to play around with him for a few more minutes as I puff my cheeks. “Hmph. Then you said you’ll give me anything I want.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry that there are some things that I can’t give you. For example, if you want to play volleyball again,” he quietly murmurs, eyes drifting away somewhere, but only for a moment before they go back to me. “But a car isn’t impossible. I’m going to get paid a lot when I join a professional team. That’ll be at least five years from now, but I promise I’ll save up and I’ll buy you a car, okay? Please wait patiently. I won’t break my promise and make you cry.”

I brush my finger against my nose, just to check whether I have an unstoppable nosebleed or not. I swear I want to cry right here right now because I’m so touched by such sincerity and kindness. Deep inside, I promise myself that I’ll treat him well too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, do you like Semi Eita? Some days ago I found this:  
>   
> This is [the source](https://twitter.com/Okeidohan/status/847382771618140162). I don’t know what they’re talking about and I’ll be sooo happy if someone can translate them.
> 
> Fyi, I didn’t realize that he’s holding a protection until some glances later. So… you’re welcome, you dirty-minded people. In this fic, he’s basically you’re older brother. Gross. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) If you’re under 13, you shouldn’t even be here.
> 
> ###### Now will you fill some polls for me? ♥
> 
> Personal Polls:  
> 1\. [Up until chapter 38 of TOSotC, which love interest do you adore the most?](https://goo.gl/hbwfQl)  
> 2\. [Which story do you really want to read next?](https://goo.gl/73HjXJ)  
> \- I’d like to think that this is the only way to request to me. If there’s enough demand, I can write something long about YourFavCharaxReader. ;)  
> \- All will have at least 100k words because as you may have known, I suck at writing short stories. ;)  
> \- I’m planning to write all of them, but this vote is to determine which one I should write FIRST after I’m done with both endings (I wish we could have 240 hours a day)
> 
> General Polls:  
> 1\. [What genre of fiction do you prefer to read?](https://goo.gl/uMqpxB)  
> \- This is very important, so please vote.  
> 2\. [What fiction rating do you feel comfortable with?](https://goo.gl/agipqZ)  
> \- I’m using ESRB as a guide here. :D  
> 3\. [What is your ideal fiction length?](https://goo.gl/JKHpQj)  
> 4\. [What kind of ending that you like?](https://goo.gl/ikuoCc)  
> 5\. [Which fiction trope is your favorite?](https://goo.gl/fPgihJ)  
> \- This is very important too.  
> 6\. [What kind of reader do you want to see in reader-insert fiction?](https://goo.gl/AgDrLE)
> 
> Thank you!


	39. One More Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shrug, but I’m sure my face isn’t far from being playful. “Should I tell you a secret?”
> 
> He nods ecstatically, alongside Bokuto, Hinata, and Lev.
> 
> “But promise not to tell anyone outside this group?”
> 
> “Yes!” The same four boys shriek, still no less tense than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thank you so much for taking your time to vote! They’ve only been out for less than 2 weeks and I’ll keep them on forever, so if you haven’t voted, you can always do it now or later (it's on chapter 38). Do mind that your vote will **only** be validly recorded **once** , unless if you have different IP, but please don’t do it… which will bring us to what I’m about to say. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> On the first day I published the votes, I put the security to “light”. It’s not the “lowest”, but it’ll still block some double/invalid votes, etc. I was shocked when the result was this:  
>   
> because 90% of the comments I receive are always “USHIJIMAAAAAAAAASDFGHJKL ♥♥♥”, so of course, I thought Ushi would win XD
> 
> Then I found out that I could check the IP of people who voted (don’t worry, I’m not into stalking anyone). There were some who voted Kei for more than once, but there’s this unknown person who did it for 22 times. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I understand that some people can have the same IP, especially if you go to the same school or live under the same roof (who would have 21 sisters xD), but 22 people and all choosing Kei? No, never. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I immediately changed the security to “heavy” and… Kei still won:  
>   
> oh my God
> 
> When I put the security to none, this happens:  
>   
> Kei has a lot of hardcore fans, eh?
> 
> I think this chapter is a bit messy because I struggled to write according to the canon timeline, but well, happy reading!

* * *

_Kaa-san _  
_Hey, you’re going home today, aren’t you? 6:57 AM_  
_I’ve told Takeda-sensei to stop by Tokyo Banana on your way home 6:57 AM_  
_Buy me the 12-piece package of chocolate banana, cheese cake, and chocolate brownies 6:57 AM_  
_I’ll pay the money back when you’re home 6:57 AM  
_

I grunt at the phone in my right hand. My mother has told Takeda to stop by Tokyo Banana on our way home? Right, who does she think she is? The first daughter of Emperor Akihito? Someone who we must obey, unless if we want to get beheaded? Just because she’s quite well-known in sport world, doesn’t mean that she can just tell my teacher to reroute the whole bus for her sake. I personally don’t mind shopping at Tokyo Banana and I’m sure that the rest will think the same way as I do, but still, my mother is being rude and selfish.

_Me_  
_ 7:41 AM I don’t mean to be weird, but you refused to donate a very small amount of money to our club and now you expect Takeda-sensei to be that kind to you? And you’re the one who taught me about respect_

_Kaa-san_  
_I just spent thousands of yen to pay for most of the barbecue ingredients you’re going to have for lunch today 7:41 AM_  
_If he doesn’t want to get me my cake, it’s his loss because we’re going to have a very bitter relationship 7:42 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:42 AM Seriously?!_

_Kaa-san_  
_Go ask your teacher if you don’t trust me, but please don’t show off to your friends 7:42 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 7:42 AM Like I will!_

_Kaa-san_  
_Cheers, I’m going back to sleep 7:42 AM  
_

“Hey, important announcement!” I turn to look at the door when it’s abruptly opened by Mako. “Nekomata-sensei just told me that the teachers and coaches will be treating us barbecue for lunch, so we’re going to prepare the ingredients at ten.”

I take a short breath. So, my mother really isn’t lying.

“What?! Barbecue?! How kind!” Yukie shouts, eyes widened in excitement like she’s going to experience tasting gold for the first time. No one seems to get puzzled by her reaction because we all know that she can never take it easy when the main topic is about food. Particularly, someone like me has no right to make fun of her as we’re from the same species.

“What should we prepare? Won’t the seller di it for us?” Yachi briefly asks before she goes back to pack her shampoo and soap inside a dark yellow travel bag that’s slightly smaller than mine.

“Oh, no.” Mako gently shakes her head. “They’ll only buy raw ingredients, not the ones that are ready to grill. I think because it’s cheaper to make everything ourselves. Don’t worry, they’ll get us the pre-made rub and sauce. We only need to cut some vegetables and perhaps do some other stuff.”

“It won’t feel nice to not have any rice as a side, so I think we can ask the people in the cafeteria to help us with this,” Kiyoko suggests with a smile that forbids anyone from refusing, no matter how lazy we are to prepare hundreds of _onigiri_ for more than seventy hungry mouths.

“Also, Nekomata-sensei told me to keep this as a secret from everyone else. It’s intended to be a surprise, you know. A gift for them after such a tiring and long week,” Mako continues as she walks closer to where I am, but it’s obvious that her real destination is a green bag beside Yachi. Unlike others, she hasn’t packed most of her stuff and we only get fifteen minutes left before it’s eight. At least she’s washed her face and combed her hair.

“Okay,” everyone including myself replies in sequence.

* * *

“Hitoka-chan, can you please check on the _onigiri_  at the cafeteria? If some are done, you can bring them here. It’s almost one, we won’t have enough time,” Kiyoko hastily tells Yachi as she stands right next to me, pulling some meat from its box and putting them on some big plates we lay on a desk we brought far from one storeroom Shinzen owns.

“[F/N], you work really fast.” Mako who’s on my left suddenly speaks up. “Kiyoko and I will take care of the meat. Can you move to the vegetables?”

“Okay,” I acquiesce in her request and move to an empty desk behind us, where there are two big bowls full of medium-sized eggplants. Before grabbing one of the plump vegetables, I take my time to scan my entire surrounding. We’re currently setting everything on an empty field between the first gym and the hill where the penalty is held. Alongside me, Kiyoko, Mako, and Yachi who just left the place, Eri is shown cutting some corns into halves on my northeast, Kaori is heating some charcoal grills in a place that’s quite far from everyone else, while Yukie was called by the coach of his team around ten minutes ago and hasn’t come back until now.

I have to admit that it won’t be shocking if anyone who comes here will immediately label us as a bunch of disorganized amateurs trying to host a banquet that’s too much for them to handle. It’s not our fault that the ingredients came at eleven, instead of nine thirty or sometime before ten. Now roughly forty-five minutes have passed and we’ve dedicated every passing second to the meat, since it’s the main menu of this whole barbecue festival. Now we only have roughly an hour to take care of all the vegetables and _onigiri_ before everyone is done with their practice.

“Eri-senpai, how should we cut the eggplants?” I opt to ask Eri’s opinion because she’s the closest to my location. “I think I should slice them in half, then cut them into small pieces? Like two centimeters?”

“Yes, that’s good. Make them quite thin so they’ll cook faster,” Eri approves my suggestion and with a superhuman speed, I begin to cut the eggplants on a wooden board. I may look like a professional sous chef when in fact, I barely cook at home. My mother hates it when people try to mess up with her creation and whenever she’s away, my father and I will just order some fast food. It’s not like cooking is impossible, especially if we follow a recipe. Though I’m glad that barbecue doesn’t require any special skill besides gripping a knife.

“I’m done with all the grills!” Before someone has the chance to reply to Kaori’s declaration, she already makes her way to me and Eri. I peek behind me and I estimate that it’ll only take Kiyoko and Mako less than ten minutes to finish their job.

“Kaori, you can cut the peppers. They haven’t been touched at all.” Using my left hand, I point at the space to Eri’s right. Kaori nods her head and without any protests, she positions herself behind a bowl of green peppers. I know not many people adore the bitterness of this particular vegetable compared to something milder like corns and I suppose that’s why the teachers and coaches only ordered a small portion of it. I’m never picky with food, but of course I’d rather serve myself a lot of meat than a lot of unripe peppers.

“Oh my, sorry guys! I was only reminded by Yamiji-san about our summer schedule, but then I was too absorbed in watching Bokuto being super random again!”

Everyone’s attention is taken by Yukie who leaves the first gym through the side entrance. She’s a bit confused as to where to go because previously she helped Kaori with the grills, but now the latter is no longer in her old station. Eri appears to be the most alerted among us as she beckons to Yukie, signaling that the vegetables division needs some help. When Yachi is back and I’m done with the eggplants, I’ll most likely tell her to handle the carrots. Unlike eggplants, we need to peel carrots’ skin and it’ll require a lot of time. I’ll help her too, of course.

“What’s wrong? Is he being emo again?” Eri predicts what Kaori meant by “Bokuto being super random again”. Her school and Fukuroudani have had the same training camp for so many times, so it won’t be too surprising if she knows most of Bokuto’s quirks.

“Emo? Again? Like what?” It’s my turn to ask.

“Well, let’s say that Bokuto has an acute case of mood swing.” Eri doesn’t give me a detailed answer as she gazes at Yukie who’s now helping her with the corns. “Yukie, you can take the privilege to explain [F/N] about your ace.”

“Uh, every time something bothers him, he’s going to lose his temper and focus. Just before I think your team did quite well and it angered him. He told Akaashi not to toss to him anymore, even when he didn’t mean it,” Yukie shortly explains and it doesn’t look like she cares that much about Bokuto’s behavior. I bet she’s too used to it that she’ll get weirded out if Bokuto acts normal instead.

“Do you know sometimes when girls have a fight with their boyfriend, they’ll say ‘just leave me alone’, but actually they don’t want to be left alone? And if their boyfriend does leave, they’re going to get even more furious? Exactly that with Bokuto,” Kaori adds, trying to contain her laughter. “He has many more random things, though. At one point during Spring High last year, he forgot how to do jump serve because he’d been watching people doing normal serve.”

“Isn’t that very stupid? It doesn’t happen only with volleyball. He told me once that he tends to forget his new wallet because it’s made from some kind of leather he dislikes. Like… where’s the connection?” Yukie swings her head side to side rapidly, hands occupied with one carrot and sharp blade. “Luckily, he’s a great player and that’s the only reason why he can do whatever he wants. We should commend Akaashi for not minding anything Bokuto does. No one is as patient as that guy.”

I can’t help myself and uncontrollably cackle. I even need to use the back of my right hand to cover my mouth, still careful enough not to stab myself with the knife I hold. Now everything is clear. Now I know why Ushijima told me that Bokuto is unstable and my mother refused to scout the said guy because he’s crazy. All this time, I merely thought of Bokuto as someone impulsive who isn’t mature enough to that there’s something called cause and effect. He’s evidently more than that, in both good and bad ways.

“What’s wrong?” One of Yukie’s brows is lifted in confusion.

“No. Um, I just come to remember stories I heard about Bokuto-san from some fellow players. Sorry, can’t name names. I don’t want to get into problems,” I filter the truth about my mother and Ushijima as the sound of my laughter decreases.

“Hm? What did they say?”

“That Bokuto-san is crazy and some such. I thought those weren’t true because I had never seen him acting like a lunatic, but after hearing this, I somehow understand why. It’s his mood swing. He’s still amazing, nonetheless. Just… I wish I was there to see what he did.”

Yukie snorts before nodding her head rapidly, most likely implying that my words aren’t only a wishful thinking.

* * *

I couldn’t care less when everyone claims that my hands move at the speed of one hundred kilometers per hour. After I’m done with all the eggplants, I jump to help Kaori with the peppers, and when we hear the sound of people stomping to our place, we evenly scatter to put all the ingredients onto the grills so some will be done as soon as the boys grab their plate and chopsticks. In a flash, the entire area is crowded by hungry folks who talk loudly about volleyball and their empty stomach. No matter what, I’m grateful that they patiently let us do our job without whining about the mess we’ve created near the sink.

“Thank you, Hime-chan!”

I look to my right and find Bokuto standing there with Hinata beside him. It seems like they’ve gotten very close within the past three days and it’s not that questionable, considering how both are very quick with new people. I only mutter a soft “not a problem”, as my eyes are riveted on Kuroo and Kei who walk next to each other, just a few meters behind Bokuto and Hinata, but side by side with Akaashi and Lev. Unconsciously, I grit my teeth at the sight of the black-haired captain patting Kei’s shoulders in such a friendly manner. I swear, I want to stab Kei’s eyes with the tongs in my hand when I see him being so cold by pushing Kuroo’s gentleness away.

“Hime-chan! Thank you for preparing everything!” Kuroo greets me as soon as he stands in front of me. “Where’s the plate—oh, there! Let’s go, Tsukki!”

“Yeah,” Kei responds to the upperclassman, but his eyes are fully scrutinizing me. “What’s wrong with you? What’s with that look?”

“Why is it always you…?” I grumble, dropping my tongs on the aluminum bowl I hug with my left arm, which contains nothing more than raw red meat juice.

As expected by me, Kei can only frown. “What?”

“Nothing. I’ll clean myself.” I grunt before passing by him, bumping our shoulders on purpose. Even if I do this, there’s no way he’ll understand what I feel since I don’t even understand it myself. All I know is that I feel some sort of jealousy because everything Kuroo does to him seems so benign. I realize that whenever we meet each other, Kuroo will first say hi to him before me. For most of the times, Kuroo will be very chatty whenever he’s around, not whenever I’m around. I can write one million reasons why, but in short, Kuroo seems to genuinely like him a lot more than me.

“Hey, you’ve worked the hardest. Tsukishima is here, so go eat with him. Please give him and the rest some _onigiri_ too.” Just when I’m about to throw the bowl I hold onto the sink, Kiyoko firmly taps my back. I stare at her and reluctantly nod my head, not because I feel bad that she allows me to rest earlier than the rest, but because she brings Kei into this conversation. I mean, why should I eat with Kei just because he’s already here?

“Thanks, Senpai.” I smile before washing my hands and turning to a table located on the southwest of the sink. I grab several pieces of tissue from a light green box and use them to wipe my damp face. Lucky that I have a pair of healthy eyes, therefore I don’t have to worry about foggy and wet glasses like Kiyoko. It’s even worse if I wear contact lenses because anything can brutally sting my eyes.

After I throw the used tissues to one of five big black plastics that’s used as a garbage bag, I pick one plate with ten _onigiri_ from the same table as before and support all the weight with both hands. I see Kaori and Yachi offer the same kind of food to those from Karasuno and Ubugawa, while the rest of the managers are still busy filling the grills. Without needing for anyone to command me, I walk back to Kei and his clique. Is it really strange if I dislike the view of Kuroo standing so close to the blond and even transferring some cooked sausages onto his plate?

“Guys, want some _onigiri_?” I intervene their mundane conversation about the last set between Karasuno and Fukuroudani. As always, Akaashi and Kei are the only two who aren’t that interested with what’s going on, so they only quietly chew on their lunch. I’m even happier that Kei is willing to eat something.

“Thank you!” Hinata shouts with mouth full of stuff as he grabs two _onigiri_ from the plate. I wonder how a body this small can be filled with so much food. His stomach must be able to expand until five times its original size. Presumably, Yukie is the same.

“You’re welcome,” I reply as I gaze at Kei who stands just across of me. “Kei, don’t eat any vegetables. Just eat the meat and _onigiri_. Here, take two.”

Kei sighs, acting as if I’m telling him to eat more because I’ve poisoned all the rice balls and want him to die. Just before I lose myself to my urge to yell, he does what I say—he grabs two _onigiri_ from my plate and places them onto his, then he drops some carrots he’s taken back to the grill. I bet everyone doesn’t mind about the fact that his chopsticks have touched the orange vegetables, but if they do, I’ll eat them on their behalf. I’ve shared bottles, breads, and more with Kei, so eating his leftover isn’t a big problem at all.

“Eh?! You’re in the country’s top five?! Awesome!” Out of nowhere, Hinata screams, startling me and almost everyone around the burning grill. At the same time, I realize that there’s only one _onigiri_ left on my plate, so I just begin devouring it real fast. Everyone already has a share and if they want more, I can bring them a new plate of another ten.

“I know right!” Bokuto proudly replies and then cackles as hard as he can. I giggle while shaking my head at his reaction because it reminds me of when I was young, when I managed to spike in my very first ball and got praised from so many people. It may seem childlike, but it’s very authentic.

“But Ushiwaka from your area is in the top three,” Kuroo chimes in after gulping down a piece of meat and caramelized onion ring. 

“Top three?!” Again, Hinata is on fire about a story I thought he knew. Back then when people were crazy over Ushijima being covered by _Monthly Volleyball_ , I thought Hinata would read his profile or at least skim through it. I mean, we’re talking about Ushijima Wakatoshi, as known as the most popular volleyball player in the prefecture. Almost everyone around me has heard of his name, even those who aren’t familiar with the sport.

“Hey! If you say that after I talked about myself, it feels like you’re bringing me down, you know!” Bokuto snarls, maybe implying that Kuroo is being insensitive, but I don’t see that. I’ve watched Bokuto and Ushijima play live and I can tell that the latter is so much more well-developed in every aspect. This time, the media and critics don’t lie.

“Eh… Didn’t Hinata read about Ushiwaka in the magazine? I bet he’s only looking at the pictures. Can you imagine him reading newspaper but only looking at the pictures? That’s why he has nothing but volleyball in his empty head.” From behind, Kei mumbles every single detail I have in mind and I can only chuckle. His words are harsh, but doesn’t the truth often burn?

“Top three means there are two others, right?” At last, I get to hear Lev’s voice. He’s so into the food on his plate that he seems to forget about other things.

“Hm.” Kuroo smirks at Lev who stands next to him. “There’s Ushiwaka from Tohoku, Kiryu from Kyushu, and Sakusa from Kanto. They are this year’s top three high school aces.”

“Oh, awesome!” I casually exclaim, followed by Hinata and Lev who do the hyperbolized version of it. Without muttering any excuse me, I take over Kei’s chopsticks and grab one piece of cooked meat from the grill.

“And of course, one of them has to be in Miyagi…” Kei says as he watches me chewing the juicy piece of heaven inside my mouth, probably waiting to get his chopsticks back. Instead of doing that, I pick another meat and bring it closer to his mouth with a bright smile. It’s not him to be sweet, so he seizes my fingers and forces me to drop the chopsticks onto his plate. I don’t know why I’m still here for someone who constantly rejects my fondness.

“Hey, hey, do you really not know one of these top aces?” Hinata asks me, eyes sparkling from anticipating a satisfying answer.

“Hm… Do I know them…? Should I tell you the truth or not…?” I attempt to wear a straight face, but after seeing everyone’s intrigued expression, I fail. I smile at first, then it gets wider, and I laugh.

“Wait, what?” Kuroo raises his eyebrows, forgetting the half-eaten _onigiri_ in his right hand. “Do you really know them?”

I shrug, but I’m sure my face isn’t far from being playful. “Should I tell you a secret?”

He nods ecstatically, alongside Bokuto, Hinata, and Lev.

“But promise not to tell anyone outside this group?”

“Yes!” The same four boys shriek, still no less tense than before.

“Also promise not to ask me any question regarding this person’s strengths and weaknesses or what not? I don’t want to answer those and I’m sure you know why.”

“Ugh, I promise, Hime-chan! Do you really know them?! Now hurry up and answer me!” Bokuto cries as he forms his hands into claws. How impatient can he get? I kind of feel bad for his girlfriend—if he has one—because she won’t be able to drag him to a female clothing store without him needing to endlessly complain about one thousand things.

“Sakusa is my second cousin.”

Bokuto and Kuroo synchronously part their lips in disbelief, while Hinata and Lev are totally astounded, although not as much as the first two. This reaction is something predictable since not many people know about this one little secret which can be quite a money-making news for the media. Maybe only our closest family members and friends who do. I remember I told Goshiki a long time ago, but he never really brought this topic back. There’s a big chance that my cousin also told his number one best friend—if he has any. Maybe Ushijima and Kiryu know as well? Whatever, I won’t bother myself that much.

“Oh. Now that I think of it, you do resemble him a bit,” Akaashi nonchalantly remarks as he flips three sausages on the grill so the other side will have the chance to be cooked. I can only shake my head, indicating that I disagree with his words. The only attribute we have in common is our dark hair, just like ninety-nine percent of Japanese people out there. There’s no special bond between me and that cousin of mine.

“Hang on! Are we really talking about the same Sakusa?! From Itachiyama, right?!” Bokuto still doesn’t want to let the truth in.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi. He has two moles on his forehead.” I point at a spot above my right eyebrow. “My mother is an only child, same as Kiyo’s mother. They’ve always been very close because they have no one else around their age in the family. Back then Kiyo would spend summer holiday in Miyagi or I would go to Tokyo to be with him. He started playing volleyball because of my mother’s influence. We used to practice together, but as you can see… that guy soars higher than me. His technique is incomparable.”

“Seriously?! Why haven’t we heard about this?!”

“Because we’ve never talked about it…? I mean, look at the reaction you have. If you know Sakusa Kiyoomi, you know that he dislikes the media even more than I do.” I giggle, half imagining what would happen if I also told them that I’ve been calling Ushijima for every single night for almost two months? Perhaps the chaos in hell will be relocated down here.

“Ugh, I hate that guy! How could you be cousins with him?! I can’t accept this!”

“Eh? Why? He’s… a bit eccentric in his own way, sure, but he’s very nice,” I say as I remember some sweet things that Kiyoomi has done in the past.

“Because we always lost to Itachiyama in the prefectural tournament. Bokuto-san always declares that he’s going to defeat Sakusa next time, but Sakusa never cares.” Again, Akaashi speaks without minding Bokuto’s feeling. What’s classy—and most likely hurtful for Bokuto—is that he does this while eating another piece of meat, then sausage. He clearly gives zero thought toward gossips, but food is a special case. I relate to that.

“But aren’t you a bit too overpowered here, Hime-chan? You’re a popular ace yourself, your cousin is Sakusa, your parents are that Eiji and Haruka.” Kuroo finally continues munching his cold food. “Well, I guess the same thing can be said to Sakusa. I wonder what more to come…”

“Let me forecast what happens next!” Once again, Hinata leads the conversation. “Probably she’s been hiding the fact that she’s engaged to Ushiwaka! No offense, Tsukishima!”

I snort at his absurd prediction. “Yeah, right.”

* * *

When the sky is fully cloaked by shades of orange and red, everyone on the field has finished drying all the barbecue utensils. I don’t even need to wash anything because the boys feel like the managers have done too much for them, hence they’ll be more than happy to clean the rest for us. It’s not really all free because we still need to cut some watermelons as a dessert, but this takes no time at all, compared to how stressed we were some hours ago. Shout-out to the soft gust of afternoon wind around us, everything feels extremely peaceful.

“I’m going to rest for a moment.” After washing my hands from the stickiness of the watermelons, I notify Yachi who’s been trailing behind me for the past twenty minutes. My eyes dart around the place and again, I see Kuroo and Kei sitting next to each other on the hill. There are no one else near them. I feel unsure to come there because I might interrupt whatever fun subject they may be having, but I really want to be with Kei right now. Or Kuroo too. Slightly.

“Oh. Hi, there.” Once I’m only less than three meters away from the two of them, Kuroo sends me such a charming smile that makes me believe that there’s always beauty in this pathetic world we’re living. Kei himself doesn’t have any specific expression etched on his face, but that’s just his default mode.

“Hey. Can I join?” I never thought that I could ask Kuroo this kind of question without biting my tongue, but it fluently happens.

“Sure! Here!” Kuroo scoots to provide me enough space between him and Kei. I was already planning to sit here or at least beside him—because being with Kei has bored me out—so, this is perfect. I smile back at him as I seat myself, then my heart almost jumps out of its place when Kuroo sees a small distance between us and he brings himself a bit closer to me.

“Um, Senpai… You’re not going to eat any watermelon?” I don’t let any second slip away that easily because I’m going home today. I want to make a few more memories with him, Akaashi, Bokuto, and maybe some other people, if possible.

“Maybe later.” It feels like Kuroo has this tendency to smile with his eyes. I never want to look like a freak in front of him, but what should I do if he’s simply breathtaking? Should I blame his parents for conceiving him? No.

“Ah. Okay.” I throw my head back to the front, watching a bunch of people chatting with each other with huge wedges of watermelons in their hands. “Anyway, what did you guys talk about? I hope I don’t bother you.”

“No. We were just discussing about some blocking techniques. Right, Tsukki?”

“Right.”

I look at Kei and tug the corners of my lips to form another smile. “It’s like a dream come true to see you being this motivated about volleyball. You should really thank Kuroo-san for taking his time to help you fix your playstyle.”

“I already did.”

“Good.” I caress his nape so lovingly and I’m touched when he doesn’t try to shove me away like usual. I won’t take this as a sign of him correcting his ugly personality, so maybe he’s just not in the mood to move too much after eating for quite a lot.

“By the way, I’m still shocked that you and Sakusa are cousins. Do you have a good relationship with him?” Kuroo hops into another topic and it makes me stare back at him, ignoring Kei for one more time.

“Hm… I think we were way closer when we were younger? Right now we’re busy with our own things, so we aren’t chatting each other every day. When I had my accident, he couldn’t come to visit me because of his school activities, but he would keep in contact with my parents. When I woke up, he immediately called me and although he didn’t speak much, I knew he cared. He’s just not that sociable and I understand. Most volleyball players that I know are introverts, unlike Hinata and Lev,” I recount what happened months ago while rubbing my chin several times. “Also, I spent last New Year’s with him in Tokyo.”

“Oh, wow. You both are really cousins, huh?”

“Of course! Why would I lie? But we definitely don’t look like each other!” I squeak. “…or only twenty-five percent because we’re second cousins…?”

“Hahaha. The more you speak, the more I find it odd that you don’t know Ushiwaka. He’s from Miyagi and both of you are the best aces there.”

“Uh, is it really that odd?” I keep making eye contact with a sharp-witted guy like Kuroo because the moment I fidget equals the moment he discovers my lie. “I did see him a few times in Sendai Gymnasium, but he never came and started a conversation with me. Maybe he isn’t… good with meeting new people? He’s also two years older than me, so we couldn’t really meet under the same circumstances that much. I guess that’s why?”

“Isn’t Ushiwaka quite rude? At least that’s what I get when Hinata and Kageyama met him,” Kei joins the discussion with a mindset that everyone who doesn’t know Ushijima well enough will have. I too thought that he was weird, but no, he’s very gentle and wonderful. Sadly, I can’t really defend him this way.

“Ah, I heard the story about them meeting Ushiwaka by accident from Bokuto,” Kuroo reveals and I bet it’s Hinata who told Bokuto. “Do you know that some people consider Sakusa to be arrogant? Honestly, I don’t think so. Just like Ushiwaka, he’s very famous, so when they give no comments to the media or their fans, they’ll be called things. I’m sure Bokuto doesn’t ‘dislike’ Sakusa as a person, but more like he’s hurt because Sakusa always defeats him.”

“True, that must be it,” I wholly agree with Kuroo’s theory since I know some people who of the blue will call me arrogant when all I do is spike a ball. The higher the hill, the stronger the wind.

“So, how is it, Hime-chan? Do you have one more secret that you’ve been hiding from us?” Kuroo continues to interrogate me. Maybe it’s from the way he speaks, maybe it’s from the way he inclines his body toward me. One thing for sure, he makes me feel terrible for not telling him everything I’ve experienced ever since I was born until up to this day.

“Well… I don’t know if this one is considered as a secret or not…” I gaze at the people down there who are still having fun with themselves. “This morning my mother told me that she paid for most of the barbecue you guys had.”

“I know this. Nekomata-sensei told my team.” Kuroo gains my attention for the tenth time today. By that, I mean how my eyes choose to everlastingly stare at him.

“Takeda-sensei told ours too,” Kei adds, but since I enjoy looking at Kuroo’s face more than his, I prefer to stay still.

“Oh, I see. I didn’t really bring this up to anyone because I didn’t want to show off.”

“Hahaha. You really remind me of my classmate.” Kuroo abruptly raises himself up from the ground and wipes some dust off his black shorts.

“Your classmate?” I ask.

“Yes.” He nods, looking down at me and locking our eyes further together. “Both of you are very low-profile, down-to-earth, and independent. Tough and funny too. Only that you’re way sweeter than her.”

My eyes go wider as I feel something unpleasant pricking my chest. “Her? Oh, it’s a girl?”

“Mhm. Why?”

“No, nothing.” I gradually lower my head, biting my bottom lip in the process. Being down-to-earth or independent isn’t something rare, but Kuroo specifically compares me to this one girl he knows. I don’t think he currently has a girlfriend because he’s never talked about it and I’ve never even heard his teammates tease him over this one thing. That being said, this classmate of him must be the lucky one. Must be someone special he has on his mind. God, this shouldn’t bother me.

“I’ll go get some watermelons and talk to my team, okay? See you.”

“A-ah, yes. See you.” I cutely wave and only a second after Kuroo walks down the hill, Kei slaps my hand. As a normal person who’s constantly abused by an abnormal one, I scowl at the guy, demanding an explanation of his inconceivable action.

“What? It’s an eyesore whenever you act like a spoiled little girl seeking for attention.”

“Mean!” I tuck my legs up as I puff my cheeks, faking my anger. “But this girl… Do you think Kuroo-senpai likes her?”

“Of course, I knew you would ask that.” Kei obnoxiously sighs while rolling his eyes. “Why does it matter? If you think you’re romantically interested to him—no, you aren’t. Neither does he feel the same thing toward you.”

“No, Kei! That’s not my point!” I exclaim, voice getting similar to a morning bird. “It’s just… Have you ever met someone so beautiful and you wondered what would happen if you dated them?!”

“Never.”

“Lie!”

“Why would I…?”

“Come on! So many pretty girls confess to you on a daily basis, Kei! Or at least there must be this one celebrity crush you have! I totally want to marry Mizushima Hiro, but he’s already taken years ago and way too old for me!”

Kei chuckles. “No. I don’t care about outward appearance that much.”

“Aw, how cute and unrealistic…” I pinch his right arm with almost no power, thus it won’t feel like anything. “If that’s true, then do you want to marry someone with thirteen breasts?”

“Like… how?” Kei lifts an eyebrow, glancing at my upper body before going back up at my face. “Around?”

“Of course! Around, two rows, small cups. Way smaller than mine.” I lay my hands on each one of my breasts and almost the same as before, Kei hauls my left elbow down.

“Are you crazy? We’re in public,” he sternly scolds me and instead of being hushed like an obedient lady, I broadly smile.

“Kei, you’re actually very kindhearted, you know? This is an unrealistic wish, but I hope we won’t have to fight each other again. I like it the most when we’re just sitting next to each other and talking about silly things like this,” I confess, clasping my hands together and resting them above my knees. “I’ll also try not to be too emotional. I don’t know why lately I’ve been feeling low, down, and everything seems to annoy me a lot more than usual.”

“Uh, what date is today?”

“Twenty-eight. Why?”

“Twenty-eight? So that’s why!” Kei lightly knocks my forehead with his knuckle. “You have your PMS. I should’ve known this since you also mention about a pain on your back.”

After a brief pause and some petrified blinks, I hysterically react, “How could you remember that when I’m not even aware of my own symptoms?! Pervert!”

“Pervert? Go call yourself that.” He attempts to hit me again, but I swiftly cover my head with my hands. “Do you realize that you always tell me everything about your life? Whenever you change your napkins at school, you’ll inform me, as if it’s necessary for a guy like me to know. You even told me which brand you’re using, but if you can, you want something thinner. I swear, you have no filter when you talk to me. One time you also—”

“Blah blah blah! Shut up!” I push his body with both hands and stand up, only to run to Yachi and Kiyoko who are talking to each other near the sink. I don’t count the amount of times Kei has rolled his eyes because of me, but without looking back to check on it, I know he does it again. Perhaps this time, it’s followed with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you’re like: Seriously, gurl? You talked about Sakusa, but not Ushijima? I’m leaving.
> 
> IT WILL HAPPEN **VERY SOON** , OKAY?! (╥﹏╥)
> 
> Anyway, do you realize that this series finally has a proper name? At first, I simply took the easy way out by using “The Cursed Princess” because I didn’t have any idea. I didn’t like it because it wasn’t that unique or meaningful. As you may have known from the votes, I’m planning to make some new stories featuring new love interests. They’re all connected to each other and thus, will be grouped under the same series. Just… for marketing purposes because everyone should enjoy making profit ~~only that fanfictions are for free haha~~. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I had no plan to write about Kuroo, but since most of you really want to read about him, I think I got something. Here enjoy a gorgeous picture of that dude:  
>   
> You’re welcome. This is the [source](https://twitter.com/ka_ru29/status/786805493360496640/photo/1). Be sure to thank the creator.
> 
> Thank you for reading and have a nice day~


	40. Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m planning to tell them soon, but Tou-san, can you please also stop with this whole Kei thing? What’s with him? Why are you implying as if I’ve done something unforgivable to him? I can hang out with anyone I want, can’t I?” I ask four questions in one go. Maybe it’s my PMS that turns me into a sensitive ball of fire, but supposedly, it’s my father’s wording. One of the many last things I wish for myself tonight is to be blamed over a sin I don’t think I’ve committed.
> 
> “No, it’s just… In my eyes, this doesn’t seem appropriate.” My father sighs, making my chest hurt because I’m criticized over simple stuff like this. “I thought there’s something special going on between you and Kei, but now I found out that there’s the same thing between you and Wakatoshi too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I’m sorry that I’ve been missing for two weeks! This chapter is 17k+ words, which might be the longest chapter ever in this fic and 3 times the usual length. I couldn’t cut it in half because every scene felt so connected to each other. Set that aside, I hope you’re all doing well, no matter where you are~
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Hey, you two! Let’s take some pictures!”

I won’t be ashamed to admit that I’m so honored when Kuroo halts me from walking any closer to the only bus in Shinzen’s parking lot. I know there’s a big probability of him planning to take pictures only with Kei, but since I’m here, so might as well. Maybe he wants to commemorate his newfound friendship with the glasses-wearing guy. Maybe he wants to parade this mentor-student relationship to those who aren’t on his volleyball team through a form of picture. Regardless of what his true motive is, I do feel way happier than when all the second and third years offered themselves to carry my bags into the bus.

“What? I don’t—”

“Sure!” I cut off Kei’s refusal, then ignoring the fact that he glares cynically at me. I can understand if he isn’t a fan of being photographed, but this is just a one-time thing. He’s very handsome too, so unlike me who needs a perfect angle and lighting to look a bit attractive, he has nothing to conceal. Well, he’s very lucky that camera doesn’t capture someone’s inner beauty because then his pictures will be full of mildew.

“You stand between me and Tsukki, okay? I’m going to put a three-second timer.” Kuroo takes out a phone from the right pocket of his shorts as he walks to position himself to my right. I hear Kei sigh in exasperation. I don’t care what protests he has in his mind, as long as Kuroo and I can get this done. To think of it, this is basically the wisest way to handle someone like him—by letting him say whatever he wants to say and never take anything seriously.

“You’re too short.” That’s the first comment Kei has to give me, at the same time Kuroo unlocks his phone, taps on some buttons, and elevates his long arm in front of my face. I choose to roll my eyes because I’m clearly far from being called “too” short. Sure, there are a lot of female volleyball players who are above one hundred eighty when they’re my age, but I bet ninety-five percent of Japanese girls are below one hundred sixty. Do I have to note that I’m the tallest girl in my class by being no more than one hundred seventy?

“You both are too tall,” I mumble while fixing my fringe in a hurry, using Kuroo’s standby phone as a mirror. It was so neat this morning, then it became a mess after I worked like a slave for the barbecue. I did retie my hair after everything, but it didn’t create a single difference to my face. Maybe I’m just too plain and the only thing I can do about this is blame my genetics.

“Ready, Hime-chan?” Kuroo makes sure, most likely getting tired of balancing the weight in his arm.

“Wait! Tilt the camera down a bit!” I squeak as I lower my head. It’s not like I have such a visible fat chin, but nothing on me looks pleasant from below, unless if Photoshop is included. None of us has the time to edit this picture, so it’s only a matter of stunning forever or ugly forever.

“Hahaha, okay.” Kuroo patiently does what I told him to. “Good?”

I flutter my eyelids, feeling like a trash between two good-looking diamonds. “You know, sometimes I think I look okay as a girl who doesn’t wear a lot of makeup, but now I don’t feel like I worth standing here with—”

“Tsk! Stop complaining! Who cares about how you look?! It’s not like you’re taking a professional picture to apply for Miss Japan!” At last, Kei conveys his anger toward me. “This is why many say that girls are so annoying! You spend an hour taking one hundred pictures, thirty minutes to filter everything, and two hours to pick the one you like! Not including those hours whining about how unattractive you look! Who cares?! If you want to take a picture, then just shut up and take it! If you don’t want to, then just shut up and don’t take it! Again, who cares about how you look?!”

“Hey, I’m not like that! I don’t like taking selfies! We don’t even have pictures together! You’re describing all those girls in our class, not me! Not Yachi or Kiyoko-senpai either! Don’t generalize everyone, you sexist pole!”

“Hey, hey, let’s not fight. Tsukki, you can just tell her that she’s beautiful the way she is. Hime-chan, let’s not make this into your second love quarrel during this training camp, okay? Come on. I’m pressing capture now.” Kuroo tries to calm us and his last sentence kind of works as Kei and I seal our lips, synchronously facing the camera. I tug the corners of my lips to form a crooked smile, Kuroo does the same, and Kei looks like he doesn’t want to live in this world. I can’t help but feel disturbed at how flawless he looks even with such a boring poker face.

“That’s it. Don’t ask for another one.” Right after the picture is taken, Kei warns me.

“No, because it looks good!” I retort, pouting a bit. I’m not lying. If the picture was bad, then I would beg Kuroo to retake twice, maybe thrice. If Kei would get irritated, he could remove himself from the scene. For me, being with Kuroo is fulfilling enough.

“Can I post this on my Twitter?” Unlike Bokuto, Kuroo feels the obligation to ask for a permission. This isn’t actually nice of me to keep reminding myself of the mistake Bokuto has made, so I should lock this memory and throw the key somewhere far beyond my reach.

“Oh, that’s fine,” I say without contemplating too much about it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. That’s fine since the cat’s out of the bag. Just… don’t write anything weird. Maybe don’t write anything at all? Or use a cute emoji or something.”

“I’ll just write… ‘last day of the training camp, see you later’?”

“Perfectly acceptable.” I give Kuroo a thumbs-up, not forgetting to vibrantly smile.

“Can I get your LINE too, Hime-chan?” Kuroo continues before glancing at Kei. “This is just a friendly gesture, so I hope it doesn’t bother you, Tsukki.”

“I don’t care,” Kei coolly replies as he scratches his nape. I have to admit, I like it when he glares at those bad dudes who try to flirt with me. As long as he doesn’t bring it to the next level by yelling at someone who merely wants to say good morning to me, I don’t consider this side of him to be possessiveness, but protectiveness. Thankfully, I’ve never encountered such creeps like gropers in a train. I don’t pray for it to happen either.

“Sure. Give me your phone.” I allow Kuroo to put his phone on my palm. The LINE app is already opened and I catch a quick glimpse of several chats displayed on the bright screen. There are two people with the last name “Kuroo”, who I assume are his parents. There’s one from Nekoma’s volleyball group chat. There’s one from Kenma. There’s one from a girl named Mitsuru or Michiru since they both have the same _kanji_. It’s located on the topmost of all the chats and I don’t know what she wrote to Kuroo as I hastily go to the “Add Friends” and type my ID down. Once I’m done, I hand the phone back to the owner.

“Thanks!” Kuroo swings his gadget in the air, smiling so kindly at me.

“You’re welcome,” I respond like a normal person should do. “Um, two weeks ago, Bokuto-san wanted my ID, but I declined because I didn’t know him that well. You can give it to him now, no need to wait for him to ask. If Akaashi-senpai wants, he can get it too.”

“Eh, really? Awesome! Bokuto most likely will bawl.”

I chuckle at the probability before heaving a short puff of breath. “He’s very sweet, isn’t he? I wish he would ask me for my ID again, but I think he feels bad for that. Please tell him to chat me whenever he wants to, even if it’s just a simple hi. I’m not sure about helping him to get a scholarship from my mother, but yeah…”

“Will do.”

“E-excuse me… Excuse me, [L/N]-san!”

Together with Kei and Kuroo, I look over my shoulder to see Abe, the substitute setter from Nekoma, the one Kuroo brought up last night. He stands less than two meters away from me, holding a small dark brown paper bag in his right hand. I begin to inwardly guess what he has inside the container, but I don’t quite direct my eyes on that since what interests me the most is how the guy seems to be petrified over something. He looks like he’s about to become a guinea pig for a fake doctor who can’t even properly cut a piece of paper, like he understands that he’s about to die in sixty seconds.

“What’s wrong, Abe-san?” I utter his name back, raising my eyebrows quite high.

Much to my surprise, he widens his eyes and lips, all at the same time. “You know my name?”

“Of course, I do.” I smile, fabricating most of the truth because the guy in front of me appears to be so delicate and sincere. If i poke his bare arm, will he melt in an instance? Maybe it won’t be that extreme, but his gawky gesture and mind are super apparent. I suppose without Kuroo needing to reveal his special feeling toward me, I’d know by myself. Though by the end of the day, he’d still need to do the first move by at least starting a normal conversation with me, just like what he’s doing right now.

“That’s a lie. Kuroo-san told her your name last night.” Insolently, Kei chimes in, “Sorry, but don’t trust her that easily. She only knew that there was someone like you in Nekoma’s team. I swear she didn’t know your name until several hours ago. Not even twenty—”

“Hey, shut your mouth!” I slap Kei’s back real hard, but instead of feeling remorseful, he smirks triumphantly. I don’t know what he assumes he’s winning, but I don’t like this attitude. In one second, he manages to make the atmosphere feel so uncomfortable and wrong. One day when I lose my heart, I will kick his crotch. I’ve heard about infertility caused by a damage around that vital area and if that information is legit, that’ll be another reason why I mustn’t back down.

“Ah, hahaha… That’s fine…” Abe crushes the bag in his hand, but then he offers it to me while drifting his eyes down to the pavement beneath us. “Uh, this… I saw this when I went out a few days ago… I just thought that… um, this would look good on you…”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you, Abe-san! Thank you!” I gladly accept his gift with another glint of sunshine framing my face, stronger than the previous one. Now I get a chance to open the bag that’s not taped and take a thorough look at the items inside. There are two identical brown ribbon hair ties. They look so cute. Even better, I’ve never had something like this. All of my hair ties are those plain ones. Sometimes they come in several variations of colors, but I don’t need to think twice to declare to the world that I prefer this ribbon one over them.

“…uh, that’s it. I’m so sorry if you think I bother you…” Abe murmurs before politely bowing down to me, Kei, and Kuroo. He doesn’t give anyone a chance to speak because as soon as he lifts his head, he turns around to leave his kindness not being valued enough.

“Wait!” Quickly, I haul his right arm, stopping him from walking any further and demanding him look at me once again. “I like autumn color like brown or cream, so I’ll definitely wear this! Thank you so much!”

Abe smiles, but it hurts me because of how forced it carves his square-shaped face. “…you’re welcome. Please take care on your way home.”

“Yes…” Slowly but surely, I let go of his body. “You take care too…”

It takes Kuroo less than five meters gap between us and Abe to open his mouth, “Tsukki, that wasn’t very nice.”

“Yes! What was that?!” I add, but with voice like thunder while Kuroo’s doesn’t even rise by a semitone. I’ve always been quite vocal when it comes to conveying my emotion, so the difference between him and me should be expected by those who know us, especially Kei.

“What?” Kei shows nothing but apathy. His personality is so rancid that I have the urge to give him one thousand yen for not shamelessly smirking like usual. It’s as if I have to praise him for being only rude, not very rude. I’m sad because he doesn’t seem to be able to change.

“What do you mean by ‘what’?! Aren’t you always proud for having that brilliant brain?! Why don’t you use it this time?!” I shriek before looking sideways at Kuroo. “Oh, Senpai, can you please turn on your phone’s front camera and lend it to him?! I think he needs a clear mirror to realize what he just did!”

Kuroo sighs, but without complying what I tell him to. “Listen, this is just an advice from an outsider, but I’ve known Abe for three years. Tsukki, I understand if you don’t feel okay with someone liking your girlfriend to be around that much, but Abe has never had even the slightest intention to steal Hime-chan from you. He’s not that low. I didn’t know about him planning to give this gift, but so what? It’s merely an act of courtesy and he was being very polite in the process. You can’t be angry when Hime-chan gets some birthday presents from other boys, can you?”

“You know, back in middle school, one of Goshiki’s teammates used to have a crush on me,” I murmur, straightaway after I think that Kuroo’s done with his fine speech. “I didn’t like him back, so I didn’t know how to behave like before I knew about his feeling. I selfishly ignored him even when he just wanted to talk to me as a friend. Everything felt so awkward around us, because of me, not him. I had no idea that my actions stabbed him in many ways until shortly before we graduated. So, Kei… maybe you’ll finally realize when you’re in the position of witnessing someone you love being with someone else.”

“What are you two speaking so dramatically? Besides, me witnessing someone I love being with someone else will never happen. That’s fiction.” Kei furrows his eyebrows, arrogantly resting his hands on his hips and glancing at me. “You’re also being a hypocrite because one time, you hugged me in front of that girl who just confessed to me in the morning.”

I frown since I can’t accept the thing Kei accuses me of. “Why are you bringing this up again? That was an accident and you had mocked me enough for it! I never meant to hurt her on purpose like what you did to Abe-san!”

“Tsukishima, can you help me arranging the backseat?”

When Kei is about to counter my defense, Daichi comes to interrupt us. Our bus is parked around ten meters behind, so no wonder if none could hear the captain’s footsteps. Kei doesn’t let any word out of his mouth as he turns to follow Daichi back to the large vehicle. I watch him climb the stairs and after he’s fully gone through the front door, I look back at Kuroo. Before this, I would feel shy to speak too much to him, but I really need someone to talk to and he’s the only one who’s here. He’s the only one who’ll understand me.

“I’ve never met someone with such a bad personality! He wants everyone to understand him, but he doesn’t want to provide anything in return! What’s worse is that he can never accept his mistake! Even when he does, he’ll eventually guilt trip someone! Like he’s forever the victim who must be coddled by everyone, regardless what he’s done!” I blurt out as my mind recalls all the unspeakable deeds Kei has done for the past four months I’ve gotten to know him.

“Shh, try to calm down first, okay? People can hear you if you’re that loud. Now can you give me an example of this guilt tripping he does? We still have some time before you have to leave, so I can listen if you want to tell me one or two things,” Kuroo soothes me and how I wish he would pat my head like a few people would. Sadly, reality strikes my sanity and breaks off the shoddy fantasy I have—it reminds me that I’m not that special in his eyes, unlike that Mitsuru or Michiru girl. Somehow, this stings.

“…yes, I’m sorry.” I take a deep breath and my voice gradually becomes more composed. “Let’s take an example of what I said. He’ll mistreat his partner and then one day, she’ll leave. Instead of feeling like it’s meant to happen from all the abusive things he’s done to her, he’ll blame everything on her or the new guy, but with a hint of self-deprecation. He’ll say stuff like ‘of course she’ll leave me, I’m no good anyway. That guy is way better than me. She’ll be happier without me’. People who don’t know the real story will automatically think of him as the innocent protagonist and the other party as the psychotic antagonist.”

Kuroo squints, providing me a judgmental look. “You’re not talking about yourself, aren’t you?”

“No! How am I supposed to talk about myself when I’m not even dating him?!” I swiftly exclaim. I’m not accidentally revealing the truth because even if I’m this irritated, I’m still conscious enough of every word I state. Maybe this has something to do with the PMS I’m having, but after seeing what Kei did to Abe, I’m really not in the right mood to continue this fake relationship. I’m not proud of calling him my boyfriend. I’m just so done with him and anything about him.

“What?” Kuroo’s small eyes get even more like straight lines. “Please explain?”

“We’re never dating. We’re just doing this… fake dating, in hope the girls won’t bother him that much and boys won’t do the same to me. It’s been working quite well. He used to get five love letters in a day, now it’s only five a week or so. Tsk…” I stop my sentence because I suddenly feel so annoyed at how popular Kei is, but then again, isn’t it all because of his appearance? Liking someone merely based on this certain reason isn’t uncommon since physique is practically what we see the first time. If we all were blessed with the power of reading people’s heart, then Kei would be the most hated guy in Miyagi. I guarantee that.

“Oh, I see. That sounds logic, so no worries. I won’t judge you that much.” Kuroo strokes his hair back, but it graciously falls to the same place as before. “However, you two are so into each other. I think the only difference it makes once you start dating will be the make out part. Hahaha.”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to imagine that! I don’t want to date that guy! I’ll die from stress!” I scrunch my nose, implying that Kei has disgusted me like never before.

“Ah, then what about Ushiwaka?”

In a split second, my expression changes into pure bewilderment and discretion. “And why are you asking about him?”

“Nothing… Just wondering…” Kuroo grins, eyes following mine all the time. “Anyway, the Spring High preliminary for Miyagi will be in two weeks, right? I heard about your last match with Aoba Jousai. I think this time your team can make it through. You’ve improved so much.”

“Seijou will also improve, but well… we’ll eventually find out by ourselves. After seeing my team’s progression for the past few weeks, I honestly don’t think it’s just a dream for them to be in the finals. I always hope for the best outcome. The strongest will win, it’s that simple. Sometimes luck can play a role, but very small one. We can never depend on that.”

“If they beat Seijou, then they must face Shiratorizawa, the top eight in the entire Japan.”

I nonchalantly shrug. “Depends. If Karasuno and those two schools are in the same group, then maybe we need to defeat Shiratorizawa even before Seijou. Um, I think it’ll be just the same as all these years. I mean, Seijou will be with Karasuno and Shiratorizawa will be in the other group. I think people really want to see Seijou versus Shiratorizawa, it’s hilarious.”

“Do you know some people from Seijou?”

“Yeah. In case you don’t know, many of Seijou’s players are from Kitagawa Daiichi. That school and my school were assigned to play next to each other for several times. I know most of them, even the benched players. I’m the closest to their ace, though. Sometimes he’ll chat me and ask about my day. He’s so nice and… uh, he’s the only person in this world that I don’t want to tick off.”

“That Iwaizumi guy?”

I nod once. “Who else?”

“When he loses, he’ll probably cry, won’t he? If you see that, won’t you feel sad since you two are close?”

“Hm… Maybe I will, but it’s a part of learning and growing up. Losing in Spring High doesn’t equal to losing their future in volleyball,” I speak some words of wisdom I’m sure Kuroo has heard before. “It’ll be weirder if he doesn’t cry. He may look tough and scary, but he’s actually an angel in disguise. He took care of me when I was hospitalized, even more than my parents. He fixed my blanket, wiped my legs, combed my hair, brought me food and drink… If he had the time, he would stay until I fell as—ugh, sorry. Too much emotion. Sorry. We talked about Kei and why are we here? Let’s talk about something else.”

“Hahaha, Hime-chan, you’re so funny sometimes,” Kuroo commends me over nothing. “If Karasuno defeats Seijou, then they must face Shiratorizawa. If Shiratorizawa loses, won’t you feel sad too?”

That question pinches my heart, but I promptly shake the sensation off as I clench my fists, rumpling the paper bag from Abe. “Senpai, why do you keep bringing Ushiwaka? What’s your point?”

“It’s just that I’m good with detecting liars.” Kuroo winks, but it doesn’t seem as charming as how it’s supposed to be. Everything changes after his statement. The way he looks at me becomes terrifying, like every single twitch of my skin is thoroughly inspected and noted. Just three seconds ago, I felt so comfortable having this conversation with him. Now, it’s successfully escalated into a scene that makes me unable to breathe calmly without worrying too much about spilling the beans.

“Liars? Is it your hobby to accuse people without proof like this?” I ask, still attempting to look as natural as possible. I know that Kuroo is incredibly sharp when it comes to read blocking, but who would’ve thought that the same technique is being applied to his everyday life?

“Then maybe next time you mustn’t look that tense whenever someone mentions Ushiwaka. The others might not notice, but I will.” Kuroo cunningly smiles and I wish I could leap ten meters backward. “So, how close are the two of you? I guess pretty close.”

“Don’t be nosy, Senpai. See you at the nationals,” I end our exchange one-sidedly. Without waiting for any response, I dash my way to the bus as my heart can’t stop beating fast out of fear. Kuroo is a dangerous person. I’m sure he won’t go informing everyone about the possibility of me knowing Ushijima, but he’s the first person to notice the clue, to ruin my guard and rip the mask I thought was thick enough. I should’ve been more alert the next time he’s around.

* * *

When I enter the bus, I see that Kei and Sawamura are still busy with organizing some huge bags and boxes of cartons we have on the backseat. As I walk to where they are, my eyes dart to find an empty spot for me to hibernate for the next five hours. I’m not going to be with Kei until I can completely forgive him, which will take at least five years. Once I find a perfect place, I continue my way to the back area, slipping and bending myself beside Kei, with the intention grab my travel bag. The guy stops moving as he watches me unzip the bag, take out my phone from the inside, and zip it back up.

“Where are you going?” Just when I turn around, Kei asks.

“Away from you,” I concisely answer without looking at him since my eyes are fully occupied by the screen of my phone that begins to load. He may want us to speak more than this, but I don’t give him the chance as I march forward, sending him a vibe of hatred and disappointment.

“Hypersensitive,” Kei mutters a foreseeable mockery. I know he wishes to get a reaction from me and then plays with it, but too bad for him, I’ve learned a lot from the past.

“Can I sit beside you?” As soon as I arrive at the third row from the front door, I check on the two-person seat to my left. There lies Kageyama with his hands around his phone. It takes him no time to look back at me and nod his head in affirmation, enabling me to hop and recline myself right next to him.

“Why aren’t you with Tsukishima? Fighting again?” he guesses right before going back to typing on his phone. He doesn’t try to keep his screen out of my sight, so it’s either he doesn’t mind if I find out who’s on the other side of the LINE chat or he’s simply too naïve to realize that there’ll always be invasive people surrounding us. Previously, Kuroo was the one.

“Not really.” I use the perfect opening to incline toward him and as soon as I read a familiar name on his phone, I snort. “I didn’t know that you’re constantly chatting Asuka like this. How’s she?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? She told me that she chatted you sometime in April, but you didn’t reply.”

“I was shocked, you know… I never gave her my ID, so I wasn’t expecting her to chat me. Even until now, I still have no idea who gave it to her. Probably someone from the male volleyball team, but whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.” I sourly smile, straightening my back to fix my sitting stance. “Has she ever told you about what happened to me back then? I mean… what happened between me and my team?”

“No. Whenever we talk about you, it’s always about her missing you and you ignoring her. How rude.”

“Tell her that I’ll chat her when I’m home.” I skip the latest part of Kageyama’s reply because I don’t want to degrade myself when my mind is currently burning because of Kei. “Also, what have you two been doing besides chatting each other? I know I’ve never asked you anything, but the time has come.”

“Sometimes I’ll have dinner at her house.”

“Really?” My voice and curiosity get higher. “Wait, you two met when I was hospitalized, right? Did you chat each other for every single day after that? Have you gone on a date with her? Do you like her? Do you think she likes you back? She should, since you’re very handsome and cool. Do keep in mind that she’s still fourteen, therefore don’t ruin her chastity. Not like someone pure like you will do a bad guy thing to her, but whatever you have in mind, wait until she’s eighteen, okay? We’re all still underage. Anyway, when will you confess? Hey, answer me.”

“Argh, stop bothering me… Go back to Tsukishima or just sleep…” With his left hand keeping his phone steady, Kageyama uses his other arm to elbow my side. He uses almost no power that it’s funny if he thinks he can silence me all at once.

“Can’t.” I huff. “He’s not a good boyfriend.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you even began dating him. Just break up and find a better boyfriend. I’m sure there’s someone who’ll treat you well,” Kageyama suggests such a realistic advice that I would take in a flash, only if I were dating Kei for real.

“But I only want to date a handsome guy who’s tall and skillful in volley—” I don’t finish my sentence as I gasp like a mosquito is stuck inside my throat, making Kageyama stare at me in puzzlement. “Handsome, tall, kind, enthusiastic, and talented in volleyball… Kageyama Tobio, should I date you?”

“What? What’s wrong with you?” From all the dents embossed on his forehead, I can tell that Kageyama thinks I’m high because of an unknown substance. “I always see you as a big sister and you always see me as a younger brother.”

“Don’t make me sound that old. You’re only ten days younger than me,” I mumble and finally, Kageyama loses his patience and proves it by not saying anything back to me. For the nth time in the past five minutes, he averts his eyes back to his phone and I realize that mine has done its job in popping all the LINE notifications. I close everything with one touch and head to the actual app, seeing the same thing as usual—some words from Goshiki, some from Ushijima, and some from Shiratorizawa’s “Not Really About Volleyball” group. I have some things to tell their ace, so there I go.

 _Me_  
_ 4:29 PM Ushijima-san, SOS_  
_ 4:29 PM Urgent!_  
_ 4:29 PM Ushijima-san~_  
_4:29 PM_   
_4:29 PM_ _Help me!_

I hold my breath when I get a phone call from Ushijima. Luckily for me, his name on my contact list is still displayed as Nanako, the profile picture he’s using is a random bright blue sky, and the sound of my phone is muted. I reject his call with my thumb and hastily type down a better explanation. At the same time, I feel the bus’ wheels moving onward, driven by Takeda. Our first destination will be to Tokyo Banana, which will take roughly forty minutes from Shinzen. I too hear the second years who sit beside and behind me begin to discuss about which product they’ll buy once we’re there.

_Me_  
_ 4:30 PM No, don’t call me!  
4:30 PM I’m still in my bus with everyone else!_

_Ushijima_  
_What’s wrong? 4:30 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:30 PM_ _Nothing’s wrong!  
4:30 PM I just want to talk about something  
4:30 PM   
_

_Ushijima_  
_4:30 PM_  
_Please don’t use words like “SOS” and “urgent” next time 4:30 PM_  
_I almost dropped my heart 4:30 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:30 PM Why are you always thinking about the worst-case scenario?_

_Ushijima_  
_Won’t you feel the same way if I do that to you? 4:30 PM  
_

_Me  
__4:30 PM Uh…_  
_4:30 PM_   
_4:31 PM_ _You’re right, I’m sorry…_

 _ Ushijima _  
_That’s fine, just don’t do it again, okay? 4:31 PM_  
_I always try not to worry too much about you, but I can’t 4:31 PM_  
_4:31 PM_  
_Please take care of yourself 4:31 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:31 PM Why a bandage? I don’t need one :D_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I couldn’t choose a better sticker… 4:31 PM  
_

_Me_  
_Hahaha, I know_  
_4:31 PM_   
_4:31 PM_ _Ushijima-san is the best~_

 _ Ushijima _  
_So, what do you want to talk about? 4:31 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:31 PM Do you remember Kuroo?_

_Ushijima_  
_He’s the one you called handsome 4:31 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:31 PM Yes, that one  
4:32 PM I think he’s a mind reader_  
_ 4:32 PM We just talked and he kept asking me about you_  
_ 4:32 PM In the end he said that he knows about us befriending each other, only from how tense I was whenever you’re mentioned by some people here_

_Ushijima_  
_I was mentioned? 4:32 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:32 PM A couple of times, especially when we talked about Spring High preliminaries in Miyagi_  
_ 4:32 PM This mustn’t be shocking for you since you’re the number one ace in Tohoku, the one who we need to beat in order to win_

_Ushijima_  
_I see 4:32 PM_  
_Then, what’s the problem? 4:32 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:33 PM Is it weird that I don’t want anyone to know about us?_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes. It’s always been weird 4:33 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:33 PM People here did say that it’s very odd, but I didn’t really lie, right?_  
_ 4:33 PM We didn’t know each other until less than 2 months ago_

_Ushijima_  
_But we do now 4:33 PM  
_

_Me_  
_Yes_  
_ 4:33 PM Seems like I can’t think straight_  
_4:33 PM_   
_4:33 PM_ _Anyway, do you know that Sakusa Kiyoomi is my cousin?  
4:33 PM I told Kei, Kuroo, Bokuto, and a few others about this_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I do 4:33 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:33 PM_ _How come?_

 _Ushijima  _  
_I met him when we were both invited to All-Japan training camp last December 4:34 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:34 PM_ _Huh?  
4:34 PM Did he out of nowhere mention me or what?_

 _Ushijima  _  
_He did 4:34 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:34 PM_ _Seriously?  
4:34 PM That _’_ s unusual  
4:34 PM Did he say hi first to you or like what?  
4:34 PM Sorry, I _’_ m super curious_

 _Ushijima  _  
_We sat next to each other during briefing. He said hi, introduced himself, and we talked 4:34 PM_  
_We spent lunch and dinner together too for the entire week 4:34 PM  
Somewhere around that time, he told me that you’re his second cousin_  _4:34 PM_

 _Me_  
_ 4:34 PM   
4:35 PM That guy started a conversation with a stranger like a normal human being?  
4:35 PM That’s a major character development!_

 _Ushijima  _  
_What _’_ s the matter? Sakusa is very nice 4:35 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:35 PM_ _That’s not what I meant  
4:35 PM It’s just very unusual for him to speak so casually to a stranger  
4:35 PM You must’ve made a great first impression_

 _Ushijima  _  
_Maybe 4:35 PM  
Does Goshiki know about you and Sakusa? 4:35 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:35 PM He does_  
_ 4:35 PM He’s the only person from my middle school who knows_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I see 4:35 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:35 PM Did Kiyoomi ever talk about our personal life?  
4:36 PM I mean between him and me?_

 _Ushijima_  
_Sometimes 4:36 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:36 PM About what?_

_Ushijima_  
_I learned a few things about your childhood and his, like how he began playing volleyball because of your family and how you spent many holidays together with him in Tokyo 4:36 PM_  
_He warned me to not tell anyone that you two are cousins because he doesn’t like reporters searching for this information and bother his life 4:36 PM_  
_He also wants you to live in peace 4:36 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:36 PM He said that last part?  
4:36 PM   
4:36 PM How sweet_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes 4:36 PM  
Do you know that Sakusa doesn’t want people to find out about you two being cousins? 4:36 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:36 PM Of course_

_Ushijima_  
_But still, you told some of your friends 4:37 PM_  
_Why don’t you do the same thing for us?_ _4:37 PM_  
_Is there something about me that’s embarrassing you? 4:37 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:37 PM_ _What?_  
_4:37 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Then why? 4:37 PM  
_

_ Me_  
  _4:37 PM_ _I’ve told you why before!  
4:37 PM I just don’t want my team to ask me a lot of questions about you since there’s a chance of them facing your school this October!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Did people ask you a lot of questions about Sakusa?_

 _ Me_  
_ 4:37 PM No, actually_

 _ Ushijima _  
_His team is the number one team in Japan, but you didn’t get any question you thought you would, then why are you worrying about us? 4:37 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:37 PM I honestly don’t mind if my own team will ask a few things about Kiyoomi because there’s literally no chance of them facing Itachiyama_  
_4:37 PM_ _Logic: Shiratorizawa has never defeated Itachiyama, let alone Karasuno_  
_ 4:38 PM It’s even impossible for us to get through the semifinals of the nationals_  
_ 4:38 PM But there’s a chance of them facing you, do you understand?_  
_ 4:38 PM I hope I make it clear_

_Ushijima_  
_Even if you give away my team’s secrets, we won’t lose that easily 4:38 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:38 PM I guess so_

 _Ushijima_  
_Then what are you worrying about? 4:38 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:38 PM Hang on_

“Kage, Kage, Kage. I need to ask you a question.” I hyperactively look sideways at Kageyama as he locks his phone and tilts his head to face me. “If you’ll see me being with Oikawa or… let’s say with that Ushijima Wakatoshi, what’s the first thing that’ll come to your mind?”

“You mean dating?” Kageyama is so adorable that he needs to make sure he reads my question well.

“Yes, you can think of it that way.”

“Oikawa-san? No. He’s extremely flirty with girls. He’ll hurt you more than Tsukishima, so it’s hard to say this, but you’d rather be with Tsukishima than that guy,” Kageyama answers without a hitch. “When it’s Ushijima-san… In this prefecture, I consider Ushijima-san to be person who deserves you the most.”

“Eh?” I lift my eyebrows, heart jumping like a little girl opening her first gift from Santa Clause.

“When I think about someone who should be your husband in the future, it’ll be Ushijima-san and vice versa. I guess it’s because you two are the strongest volleyball players we have around? Simply put, the princess should marry the prince.” Kageyama turns his head to the front and I’m thankful that I can be all flustered however I want since his field of vision doesn’t include me anymore.

“But am I still the beloved volleyball princess, even when I’m no longer playing professionally?” I carefully ask, murmuring a tad.

“You’ve proven your talent to the world and it’ll always be remembered. Your parents don’t professionally play for Japan anymore, but everyone still call them a good player,” Kageyama gives me a satisfying answer before yawning and leaning his head against the window covered with pale yellow curtain to his left.

“Hm…” I dimly smile at Kageyama, even when he doesn’t see that. “Thanks, Father.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just go back to your dear Asuka.” I poke his right chin with my free hand and he groans while protecting his head with his arm in displeasure. I chuckle at his childlike reaction, but then I remember that Ushijima is still waiting for me to continue our chat. Almost at the same time as Kageyama, I unlock my phone.

_Me_  
_4:41 PM_ _Back~_  
_ 4:41 PM Sorry, I was talking to Kageyama about our club_

_Ushijima_  
_That’s fine. Take your time 4:41 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:41 PM_   
_4:41 PM_ _Ushijima-san, one question?_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes? 4:41 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:42 PM Are you okay being with me?_

_Ushijima_  
_What do you mean? 4:42 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:42 PM Are you okay with people looking at us standing next to each other?_

_Ushijima_  
_?_  
_Of course?_  
_I want people to look at us when we stand next to each other 4:42 PM_

_Me_  
_ 4:42 PM Are you okay with cameras following us when we’re in public?  
4:42 PM Are you okay with fake articles written about us?_

_Ushijima_  
_I’m okay with anything, as long as I get to be with you 4:42 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:42 PM_ _But you’re a star athlete and I’m just an injured one_

_Ushijima_  
_What did I tell you about speaking so low about yourself? 4:42 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:43 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Be ashamed if you injured yourself because of drugs or getting drunk, not because of this 4:43 PM_  
_Don’t you want to be a coach? The media will follow you until the end, just like what they do to your parents 4:43 PM_  
_If you don’t want this kind of life, then become something simpler. No one’s going to blame you 4:43 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:43 PM_ _Oh no, don’t get mad, Ushijima-san…_  
_4:43 PM_   
_4:43 PM_ _I’m sorry…_  
_4:43 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_No, I’m not mad 4:43 PM_  
_4:44 PM_  
_I just wish you could appreciate yourself as much as I appreciate you 4:44 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:44 PM_ _I will! I will listen to your advice!_  
_4:44 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Good 4:44 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:44 PM I’m sorry for having a weird thought, I just don’t want you to lose your fans or reputation because of me_

_Ushijima_  
_I’m a volleyball player, not an idol. I don’t need any fans and again, why would I lose my reputation because I’m with you? It will increase, instead 4:44 PM_

_Me_  
_ 4:44 PM I’m sorry_

_Ushijima_  
_You didn’t do anything wrong 4:44 PM  
4:44 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:44 PM_   
_4:44 PM_ _Anyway, I’ll tell my clubmates about us, but not now_  
_ 4:44 PM I need some time to plan how_

_Ushijima_  
_Really? You will? 4:44 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:45 PM Yes_

_Ushijima_  
_I’m so happy 4:45 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:45 PM Happy? Why?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Because that means, you’ll allow me to physically be next to you when we meet at Sendai Gymnasium this October 4:45 PM_  
_That’s only if Karasuno will get through the first preliminaries 4:45 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:45 PM No! You can’t be near me!  
4:45 PM   
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Why? 4:45 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:45 PM I’m expensive!_  
_ 4:45 PM You should pay real money to do that!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Pay? 4:45 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:45 PM 10,000 yen to talk to me_  
_ 4:46 PM 50,000 yen to talk to me + touch me_  
_4:46 PM_   
_4:46 PM_ _Which one do you want?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_How much should I pay for having lunch with you? 4:46 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:46 PM 250,000 yen is good enough_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Does that include talking and touching you? 4:46 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:46 PM I’m kind, so sure_

 _ Ushijima _  
_What do you mean by touching? Can I hug you? 4:46 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:46 PM You can hug me for once, but not in public_

_Ushijima_   
_Only once? 4:46 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 4:46 PM +50,000 yen per extra hug_  
_4:46 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Can we hold hands? 4:47 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 4:47 PM No! That’s off-limit!  
4:47 PM No one does that to me!  
4:47 PM Not even Goshiki!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Oh, okay… 4:47 PM_  
_So, I need to prepare 250,000 yen plus a few more for hugging you 4:47 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:47 PM You can pay in installments_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Installments? 4:47 PM  
_

_Me_   
_ 4:47 PM Yes, you pay monthly until October_  
_ 4:47 PM Like this…_  
_ 4:47 PM July is almost over, so you can pay the first installment next month_  
_ 4:47 PM We have August, September, and October, so 3 months in total_  
_ 4:48 PM 250,000 divided by 3 is… how much?_

_Ushijima_  
_83,333 4:48 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:48 PM_ _What?  
4:48 PM Are you a genius?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No, I just remember the numbers 4:48 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:48 PM That’s a genius!_  
_4:48 PM_   
_4:48 PM_ _Anyway, just pay 100,000 at the beginning of August, September, and October_  
_ 4:48 PM I’ll give you 2 free hugs, so you’ll get 3 hugs in total_  
_ 4:48 PM What about that?_

_Ushijima  
But what about our date? Is that for free?  4:48 PM  
_

_Me  
4:48 PM Yes, but you must pay for the next one_

_Ushijima  
How much?  4:48 PM  
_

_Me  
4:48 PM 1 million yen  
4:49 PM   
_

_ Ushijima _  
_1 million yen? 4:49 PM  
Do I have to keep doing this? 4:49 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:49 PM_ _Doing what?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Having to pay if I want to spend time with you 4:49 PM  
In the end, I won’t have any money left 4:49 PM  
4:49 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:49 PM Ushijima-san, why are you taking this so seriously?_  
_ 4:49 PM You’re so cute_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Ah? 4:49 PM  
Are you not serious? 4:49 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:50 PM Of course not!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Oh 4:50 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_4:50 PM_ _Oh my, you’re the cutest!_  
_4:50 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_I thought you were being serious 4:50 PM_  
_I was super confused 4:50 PM_  
_1 million is half of my earning for U19 4:50 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:50 PM What?!  
4:51 PM   
4:50 PM That’s a lot! Who’s your sponsor?!_  
_4:50 PM_ _I thought you’d only get around 300,000 - 500,000 yen!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_We have some big sponsors, but you know wing spikers always earn the most and I’ll play for the entire match 4:50 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:51 PM Isn’t 1 million enough to get a brand new car?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I suppose, but I can’t buy you a car now. I need to save money and even if I do buy it now, you still can’t use it because you don’t have your driving license yet 4:51 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:51 PM No, I wasn’t implying about you buying me a car!_  
_ 4:51 PM And I wasn’t even serious when I asked you to buy me a car!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_4:51 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 4:51 PM I’m content with french fries and ice cream_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I don’t understand 4:51 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 4:51 PM In short, I won’t really ask you to buy me expensive stuff, Ushijima-san_  
_ 4:51 PM We just knew each other and even if we’ve been friends for 10 years, it’s just not appropriate_  
_ 4:51 PM You can buy me a car or anything luxury when we’re married, okay?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_When we’re married? 4:51 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 4:51 PM If we’ll be married_  
_ 4:52 PM In the future_  
_ 4:52 PM We don’t know about what will happen in the future_  
_ 4:52 PM Ah, never mind_  
_4:52 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Married? 4:52 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_4:52 PM_ _Argh, nothing!  
4:52 PM By the way, I need to ask something on the group chat_  
_ 4:52 PM See you there_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Okay 4:52 PM  
_

Before I move from Ushijima’s chat to Shiratorizawa’s group chat, I take a time to glance at Kageyama who’s still texting Asuka like there’s no tomorrow for them. The first and what I thought would be the last time I saw him working his fingers this fast was when he had to improve his _kanji_ for the supplementary lesson last month. He wrote hundreds of things on a paper that would absolutely get ripped the second he snapped the tip of his pencil. Whatever is happening, I’ll always be happy for Kageyama and Asuka, so without bothering him like before, I head to the group chat that appears to be soundless since four hours ago.

 _Me_  
_ 4:53 PM Knock, knock_  
_4:53 PM_   
_4:53 PM_ _I’m on my way to Tokyo Banana, does anyone want some?_

My heart feels warm and full of joy when six people continuously read my chat. One must be Ushijima and the other five to be Goshiki, Semi, Tendou, Kawanishi, and Reon. Why do I think that? Because they’re always available at least sixteen hours a day—only because eight hours is for sleeping. I’ll never lie and say that I’m not okay with them. In all honesty, it doesn’t seem complete without Tendou fighting Kawanishi with stickers, Semi trying to rebuke them, Reon’s laughter, and Goshiki just being oblivious and adorable like a little duck he is. Or a chick. Sometimes, Shirabu’s state of being constantly stressed out is also something that I enjoy.

 _ Goshiki _  
_Ah! You always bought that whenever you went to Tokyo! 4:53 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:53 PM More like my parents who always bought them_  
_ 4:53 PM My mother asked my teacher to drive the entire bus there because she’s selfish, so I might as well buy some for you guys_

 _ Tendou _  
_I want! I want! 4:54 PM_  
_4:54 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 4:54 PM Aren’t you still in Yokohama, Tendou-san?_  
_ 4:54 PM It’s only 30 minutes from your place to there_

 _ Tendou _  
_I’ll be back next week because I miss my friends 4:54 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:54 PM Aww, is that really the reason?_

_Goshiki_  
_This morning Tendou-san told me that the reason he’s going home is because he wants to copy his friends’ homework :D 4:54 PM_

 _Tendou_  
_4:54 PM_  
_No one likes a telltale! 4:54 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_The product list: 4:54 PM_  
_<http://www.tokyobanana.jp/products/index.html>  4:54 PM _

_Reon_  
_Taichi is so fast when it comes to this 4:55 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_I want the one with maple filling, please? 4:55 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:55 PM The one that you like?_  
_ 4:55 PM Okay_

 _ Reon _  
_You should buy the 8-piece package, since there are 8 of us 4:55 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_4:55 PM_  
_Good idea! 4:55 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Besides me, who else has never had Tokyo Banana before? 4:55 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Only you 4:55 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi_  
_Only you 4:55 PM _

_Tendou_  
_Argh! This is so funny, thinking that I’m from Yokohama! 4:55 PM_  
_4:55 PM_  
_Do you guys have any recommendation? 4:55 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_I want the cheese cake 4:56 PM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 4:56 PM The cheese cake is so yummy!_  
_ 4:56 PM It’s my family’s favorite_

 _ Ushijima _  
_I like the banana cake with original flavor 4:56 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_4:56 PM_  
_Wakatoshi-kun is so boring when it comes to choosing flavor! 4:56 PM_  
_Always vanilla or something plain! 4:56 PM_  
_At least choose chocolate! 4:56 PM  
(Hime-chan, I want the one with chocolate filling) 4:56 PM  
_

_ Ushijima_  
_I’m sorry 4:56 PM_  
_4:56 PM_

 _ Reon_  
_So cute 4:56 PM  
_

_Tendou  
Cute!!!  4:56 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi_  
_4:56 PM_

 _ Tendou _  
_I always have butterflies in my stomach every time Wakatoshi-kun uses Brown’s stickers 4:56 PM_  
_Like he has a sense of humor, while in reality he has none 4:57 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:57 PM What? XD_

 _ Goshiki _  
_Is that supposed to be a compliment…? 4:57 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Of course!_  
_4:57 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 4:57 PM Anyway, where’s Semi-san?_

 _ Reon _  
_He’s doing some hairstyling for his salon 4:57 PM_  
_Today is Sunday, so he’ll be busy until late night 4:57 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_I see!_  
_Is he any good?_

_Reon_  
_His fingers are magic 4:57 PM_  
_You should ask him to do your hair sometimes 4:57 PM  
_

_Me_  
_4:57 PM_ _Oh, I will!_

 _Tendou_  
_4:57 PM_  
_Why are you so into Eita-kun? 4:57 PM_  
_I notice you’re always “where’s Semi-san? :D Semi-san, are you there? :D Semi-san~~~ :D” 4:57 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:57 PM That’s exaggerating_  
_4:58 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_No, that’s true 4:58 PM_  
_A few times she did ask me about Semi’s whereabouts 4:58 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_I realize that as well 4:58 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:58 PM Why is that weird?_  
_4:58 PM_ _Semi-san is kind and fun_

 _ Kawanishi _  
_He is, isn’t he? 4:58 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Hayato-kun and Kenjirou aren’t here, yet you’re not looking for them 4:58 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:58 PM Yamagata-san said he’s going to apologize privately to me_  
_ 4:58 PM I’m still waiting for it :(_

 _Tendou_  
_Oh you’re right 4:58 PM_  
_4:58 PM_  
_So, he hasn’t chatted you? 4:58 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_He’s probably playing games again 4:58 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Wakatoshi-kun, is he dead? 4:58 PM  
_

_Ushijima  
Tendou, don't joke about things like that 4:59 PM  
_

_Tendou  
So-sorry  
4:59 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_I haven’t seen him since this morning 4:59 PM_  
_I was only out to have breakfast, so I’m not sure 4:59 PM_  
_He hasn’t come to my room either 4:59 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_He probably lost his phone again 4:59 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_I do think the same 4:59 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:59 PM Lost his phone again?_

 _ Tendou _  
_That guy loses his phone more than he changes his underwear 4:59 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:59 PM What_

_Goshiki_  
_What 4:59 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_What? 4:59 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_4:59 PM_

 _ Reon _  
_I suddenly don’t get what’s going on 4:59 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Just laugh at my joke! 4:59 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:59 PM If Semi-san were here, he would say: gross, Tendou! Stop that!_

 _ Tendou _  
_See? Eita-kun again! 5:00 PM_  
_What’s so good about that guy until he lingers on your mind? 5:00 PM_  
_5:00 PM_

 _ Me_  
_5:00 PM_ _Um, maybe because Semi-san is…  
_ _5:00 PM_

_ Reon _  
_Hahaha 5:00 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Huh! 5:00 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:00 PM Hold on!_  
_ 5:00 PM Let’s list your order:_  
_1\. Banana original / vanilla_  
_2\. Banana maple_  
_3\. Banana chocolate_  
_4\. Cheesecake_  
_ 5:00 PM Anything else?_

 _ Reon _  
_Won’t it be too expensive for you? We’re going to pay you back later, okay? 5:00 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_5:01 PM_ _No need!_  
_ 5:01 PM The 8-piece package is only around 1,000 yen_  
_ 5:01 PM I’ve saved quite a lot of money, so just consider this to be a gift from a friend_

 _Tendou_  
_I’m so touched, Hime-chan 5:01 PM  
_

_ Reon_  
_Thank you 5:01 PM_

 _ Kawanishi_  
_Thank you 5:01 PM _ _  
__ _

_Tendou_  
_5:01 PM_  
_Thank you so much 5:01 PM  
_

_Me  
5:01 PM You’re welcome!_

_ Goshiki _  
_Thank you! 5:01 PM _  
5:01 PM  
__

_Ushijima  
Yes, thank you  5:01 PM  
_

_Tendou  
I want to hug you, but I don’t want to take what belongs to my best friend  5:01 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:01 PM Say what now? -_-_

_Tendou_  
_And I just realized how you wrote the list 5:01 PM_  
_1\. Wakatoshi-kun_  
_2\. Tsutomu_  
_3\. Me_  
_4\. Taichi 5:01 PM_  
_It’s like the order of who you like the most 5:01 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:01 PM What are you talking about?_

 _ Goshiki _  
_I’m number two??? After the guy you just met??? 5:01 PM_  
_5:02 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 5:02 PM ………_  
_5:02 PM_ _Unimportant_  
_5:02 PM_ _So, anything else?_

 _ Shirabu _  
_Can I get the caramel custard? Not the plain caramel, but the custard one 5:02 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Hey! You! 5:02 PM  
Where’s your “hi”? How rude of you to out of nowhere appear like that! 5:02 PM  
_

_ Shirabu _  
_Hi 5:02 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:02 PM I’ll get you that, Shirabu-san :D_

 _ Shirabu _  
_Thank you so much 5:02 PM  
I’ve been reading this chat ever since you’re here, but now I’ll go back to sleep 5:02 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_What’s wrong with this dude? 5:02 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Aftereffect from studying too much 5:02 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:02 PM So…_  
_1\. Banana original / vanilla_  
_2\. Banana maple_  
_3\. Banana chocolate_  
_4\. Cheesecake_  
_ 5:02 PM 5\. Banana caramel custard_  
_ 5:02 PM The shirayukiza is yummy_

 _ Tendou _  
_Then I want one! 5:03 PM_  
_5:03 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 5:03 PM Okay  
5:03 PM How about the strawberry cake? Matcha cake? Raisins sandwich?_  
_ 5:03 PM Should I just get each one?_

 _ Kawanishi _  
_Those 5 + shirayukiza are enough, I think 5:03 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Can I also get the banana pie? 5:03 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:03 PM Sure!_

 _ Tendou _  
_Sure! Sure! Sure! 5:03 PM_  
_Of course you can, Wakatoshi~ 5:03 PM  
Anything for you, Wakatoshi~ 5:03 PM_  
_5:03 PM_

_Me_ _  
5:03 PM -_-  
5:03 PM Here we go again  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Tendou, don’t use that sticker 5:03 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Why? 5:03 PM_  
_5:03 PM_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Tendou, stop 5:04 PM_  
_Those can only be used by me and [L/N] 5:04 PM  
_

I almost accidentally choose Cony’s sticker where her heart thumps crazily because of Brown. I guess I don’t need that since in reality, my heart copies the exact same thing. Maybe even crazier. I know that from the first day we talked to each other, Ushijima has never failed to treat me like a goddess or some sort, but every single time, it always feels like something new. Is it perhaps because I never understood the real meaning of kindness and generosity until he showed it to me? Even if I ask, I doubt someone including myself can give the correct answer.

 _ Tendou _  
_Can someone lower the heat in this room? Because I’m melting 5:04 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Nice one, Satori 5:04 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_1\. Banana original / vanilla_  
_2\. Banana maple_  
_3\. Banana chocolate_  
_4\. Cheesecake_  
_5\. Banana caramel custard_  
_6\. Shirayukiza_  
_ 5:04 PM 7\. Banana pie_  
_5:04 PM_ _I’m going to be there soon_  
_ 5:04 PM How am I supposed to give the cakes to you?  
5:04 PM I think I can ask my parents, since they always drive by Shiratorizawa on their way to work  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_I can pick them up 5:04 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Hime-chan, don’t change the subject! 5:04 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_It's been a while, I kind of miss going to your house 5:04 PM  
_

_  
_

_Me_  
_ 5:04 PM Okay, Shiki-chan_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Aren’t we going on a date next week? I’ll bring you home, so I’ll take the cakes with me when I’m back 5:04 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_What 5:04 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_What 5:04 PM  
_

_ Reon _  
_Eh? 5:04 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_A date??? 5:04 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_I’ve never heard about this one 5:04 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_5:05 PM_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Yes 5:05 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:05 PM Ushijima-san, shut your mouth!_  
_5:05 PM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Ah? 5:05 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:05 PM Goodbye forever!_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Are we supposed to keep this as a secret? 5:05 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Nah 5:05 PM_  
_Whatever you were planning to do, we would eventually find out 5:05 PM_  
_5:05 PM_

 _ Ushijima _  
_No, not goodbye forever 5:05 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Uh-oh 5:05 PM  
_

_Ushijima  
I’m sorry. Please come back  5:05 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Is this another family feud? 5:05 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_Taichi, just shut up and enjoy the show 5:05 PM_  


_ Reon _  
_Tsutomu, is she mad for real? 5:05 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_No, she isn’t 5:05 PM_  
_Her hobby is to tease people, so don’t mind her 5:06 PM  
_

“Kage, Kage, Kage.” Averting my eyes sideways, I call for the guy beside me. “Would you rather die because you get eaten by a zombie or a crocodile?”

“What?” Once again, Kageyama gives me a muffled look. “Why are you asking stuff like that?”

“Just because!” I drop my head on his right shoulder and when he doesn’t even try to push me away, I close my eyes. I’m glad that I have him when Kei is being a toxic. To think of it, he would be the only one I have in Karasuno if Kei were never even there.

“Are you having food poisoning? You’ve been acting strange ever since we sat together. Maybe the remedy is if you mend things with Tsukishima.” After ten seconds of soundlessness, Kageyama continues as he shifts his body to make himself feel the coziest with the position the two of us have. Correction to that—it’s a position I coerce him to have for my own sake.

“Someone was being too cute and as an effect, now I feel so light. Maybe that person is a psychoactive drug in a human form. In good way, though,” I randomly reply.

“Huh? What are you talking about? Just sleep. I’ll wake you when we’re there.”

I beam with delight, replaying all the words Ushijima typed on the group chat in my head. “I wonder why…”

* * *

From Saitama, we drive southwest to a shopping mall called Daimura in Tokyo. There’s quite a crowd since it’s Sunday afternoon during a summer break, but we manage to find a good parking spot not far from the building. I’m a bit bothered by Nishinoya and Tanaka who howl like they’re just rescued from a forest. That’s one of the few reasons why I opt to walk beside Kageyama who’s being dead quiet, even though he no longer plays with his phone. From his eyes, I can tell that he’s amazed by how grandiose everything looks compared to what we have in Miyagi, but he remembers to stay classy about it.

It doesn’t take long for us to arrive at B1, where Tokyo Banana is located. After barbecue, I actually did some discussion with Takeda about which place we should go. Most of Tokyo Banana stores are built in airports or train stations and we clearly don’t have time to go there. There are some other malls in Tokyo that we can easily access, but they only sell one or two kinds of cakes. From a bit of googling, we decided that Daimura is our best bet to get the access to every single product available—besides Skytree, but it’d be suicide if we mentioned this in front of the overly-enthusiastic boys we have.

“Why are we going to the basement? Isn’t there a store on the first floor as well?” Without me realizing, Kei has stood on my right, talking to me while keeping his hands inside the pockets of his black jacket like there’s no problem between us.

“The one in the basement sells more. Takeda-sensei told us just before we parked our bus, Tsukki. You didn’t hear?” Yamaguchi explains, as he appears to be on Kei’s right.

“That’s why we’re born with a pair of ears. It’s so we can listen,” I emphasize the last word on purpose. I don’t want to look for troubles by ridiculing Kei, but I just feel like it, even if it’s contradictive to my first feeling.

“Control your PMS, will you?” Kei retorts.

I click my tongue, staring fiercely at him. “I always have PMS whenever I’m with you. Just leave me alone, will you?”

“Can you cut it out? Why don’t you ever listen to her?” Kageyama speaks up, giving Kei a perturbed look. I’m surprised because all this time, he’s never meddled in this recurrent quarrel, but I guess he’s had enough of us not being normal to each other. If I want to be more specific, then let’s say that he’s just like me—he’s fed up with Kei’s attitude.

“Mind your own business, King.” And there we go again with him calling Kageyama that way. When will he ever learn?

“She asked you to leave her alone, so do it. Why are you still here?” Kageyama sharply retaliates.

“Oh, wow? Are you trying to be the cool guy who defends her, even when you don’t know anything?”

“I don’t know anything? Is that really what you think? Everybody here knows about this fractured relationship you two are having. [L/N] is one of the most tolerant people I’ve ever met and even she’s lost her temper several times. All because of how loose your lips can get. We all know it’s never her fault.”

“Please, King. Don’t speak as if you know every little detail of our relationship. You barely even grasp the surface.”

“At least I never hurt her and I always treat her with the utmost respect I can give someone. I would never yell at her like what you did that night—”

“Shut up! This isn’t an _otome_ game!” I shout, stomping forward to a brown-dominated store that’s roughly fifteen meters ahead of us. The exchange I just heard was so useless and stupid. It made me want to scream “I’m not dating a repulsive creature like Tsukishima Kei!”, but I was smart enough not to make a scene. For now, keeping my mouth close is the best way to get through the day.

I make my way to the front of a broad display of various Tokyo Banana products. As I look around to make sure that there’s no one near me, I grab my phone from the right pocket of my jacket. It’s funny that I’m so used of it being hot to the point that it’s stranger when it no longer happens. Since I can’t spare any more time mulling over something other than finishing my duty here, I quickly unlock my phone and open my LINE. I know what I need to buy for my mother because her favorites have always been the same through all these years, but I can’t recall all the seven or eight things the Shiratorizawa boys want.

I stopped replying to Shiratorizawa’s group around twenty-five minutes ago and I can already see more than fifty chats that I haven’t read, all about Ushijima being dejected because he thought I was really mad at him, Tendou teasing him by saying that he did anger me, Reon assuring him that I didn’t mean my words nor sticker, and Goshiki confirming that to be true, like he could read my mind better than myself—well, maybe he could. Kawanishi seems to be missing, but I’m sure he’s here all the time, reading every word attentively and typing only when he feels like it.

 _ Me_  
_ 5:32 PM Hey there! I’m here now at Tokyo Banana_  
_ 5:32 PM At a mall called Daimura, to be exact_

 _Tendou_  
_Hime-chan, how could you leave us just like that?! 5:33 PM_  
_5:33 PM_  
_Wakatoshi-kun almost wanted to pack his bags to travel and see you 5:33 PM  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_No? 5:33 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_See? Like I told you, she’s back 5:33 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 5:33 PM We’re going to see each other when we have our date_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Ah 5:33 PM  
_

_ Tendou _  
_5:33 PM_

 _ Reon _  
_I don’t know why I’m beaming after reading your sentence 5:33 PM  
_

I hear some voices getting louder and louder, so I check behind me and see the rest of my group who will reach this store in less than ten seconds. I have a feeling that Kei, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi will come to where I stand because they think I know what to do more than anyone else around. That said, I can’t let them peek on my screen since the only one who has a fake name in this group is Ushijima. Rather than changing everyone’s name one by one, I choose to scroll up to find the list of what I need to buy, copy it, and paste it on Goshiki’s private chat with me.

_Me_  
_1\. Banana original / vanilla_  
_2\. Banana maple_  
_3\. Banana chocolate_  
_4\. Cheesecake_  
_5\. Banana caramel custard_  
_6\. Shirayukiza_  
_ 5:33 PM 7\. Banana pie_

“Seven and three… So, ten in total,” I count under my breath and that’s when I feel a sturdy arm wrapping my shoulders. I immediately lock my phone and look to my right, only to grunt when I see Kei standing there, staring down at me with the softest gaze he can possibly show someone. If I weren’t this mad, I’d snuggle him so lovingly like some nights before. That might sound gross, but whatever.

“What are you going to buy?” he asks after a couple of seconds of me not reacting.

“Leave me alone, Kei. Takeda-sensei can see us. I don’t want to get scolded again,” I warn him as I try to spot Takeda. That teacher seems to on the other side of this store, together with Ukai and all the third years. Kageyama and Yamaguchi are joining Hinata, Yachi, and Kiyoko near the cashier. The second years are still having the time of their life on the food court just outside this place. Fine, this should be safe.

“He’s there. You have nothing to worry about.” Kei’s arm moves down and now his hand is on my waist, forcing me to be closer to him. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Yeah.” This time, I opt to save the time by being honest.

“Then I’m sorry.”

“Meaningless. What’s the point of apologizing if you don’t acknowledge your mistake? The world isn’t going to follow the rules written in your head, young man,” I snarl, then sighing and letting our eyes meet. “I’m done with trying to fix your personality. Kageyama was right, you don’t treat me well. You never respect anyone, while you want to be respected. It’s like you kill someone’s family and then you hope for them to love you afterward. Seriously, sitting with Kageyama felt good because he didn’t even try to say something mean like you. Now stop hugging me, it’s embarrassing.”

Kei wears an expression that’s akin to a lost little puppy. “I’m sorry.”

“See? Always looking like you’re the miserable one because of what? Because I blamed you over a real mistake you did? Boring. Find another way to be the victim. Maybe smoke and drink alcohol? Or go kill yourself.” With the entire power of my right arm, I try to yank Kei’s hand, but this guy is way stronger than me. I wish I would learn some martial arts during my childhood, other than volleyball and only volleyball. I wish I wouldn’t have an accident that cracked more than fifty percent of my body.

“I was just scared.”

My chest tightens upon hearing his reason, but I take a short breath and try to be as sensible as I can. “Scared? Scared of what?”

“I don’t know.” Now that I don’t ask for it, he lets go of me. “I was just scared.”

“Why?” I turn a tad to the left, thus I’m able to face him a little bit better than before and he does the same to the opposite direction. “Was it because you thought I would fall for Abe-san?”

“Why would I be scared because of that? You can fall for anyone you want. It’s your life, not mine.”

“Then what?” I start to get tired of this conversation. “I don’t understand you. I’ve given you this advice, which is if you have something to say, just say it. It’s not like I’ll get upset for no reason. I’m not you.”

“Do you think you’ll look good in brown or cream?” Kei suddenly changes the subject as he runs his hands over both sides of my head, tangling my hair between his fingers. “You told Abe-san that you like autumn color like those two, but do you really think you’ll look good in them?”

I roll my eyes clockwise, becoming nauseous at how he plays around with my feeling like it’s meant to be a mess. “If you want to start another fight, just say so—”

“That’s not my point.” Kei keeps my head still. “You look the best in red.”

“I look the best in red?” I repeat his opinion, widening my eyes in confusion.

“Yes.” He releases his grip and his hands hop down to the tip of my hair, just around my waist. “The first time I saw you, you tied your hair with a ribbon hair tie like the one Abe-san gave you, but it’s red and way bigger.”

“You remember I wore that? Wow, I’m honored, but also freaked out at the same time.” I can’t help but smile, accidentally shedding off some layers of my anger. “But that wasn’t a hair tie like what Abe-san gave me. That’s literally a long red ribbon I got from a shrine in Tokyo. When I went there with my family for New Year’s Eve, to be exact. Do you like that?”

“Like is a strong word and no, why would I? You just… look good in that,” Kei attempts to not be honest to his heart, but I know him better than his bad acting. “Why did you only use it once?”

“I lost it on my way home. I realized that it wasn’t there anymore when I was in the train, so I guess it fell on the road somewhere between Karasuno and the train station,” I explain as I try to look back on every scene that occurred that day. “Well, never mind, it’s not like I can’t buy a new one. It’s just… I wonder if someone found the ribbon? Maybe someone did and one day I’m going to meet him. He’ll be my future husband because of this red string of fate thing. Funny, but I don’t mind living that kind of story.”

“Aw, that’ll be so romantic, won’t it? I hope that person turns out to be a seventy-year-old guy. With five kids, fourteen grandchildren, and a dead wife. Don’t worry, he’ll be very wealthy and that reason is valid enough for you to marry him,” Kei jokes harder and darker than me.

“Thank you for the prayer, but let’s not forget that my image on that day was imprinted on your mind.” I prod Kei’s ribs with my elbow. “Was I that memorable until you couldn’t forget of what I wore?”

“It’s easy to spot a huge girl with a ponytail wrapped in a red ribbon. You’re basically the only person in the entire school who wore that and you’re also in my class. Don’t let your head get too big.” I thought Kei was going to hit my forehead, but he lightly knocks my nose with the back of his middle finger. “And you must sit beside me when we’re back.”

“What? No. I haven’t forgiven you, please don’t let your head get too big. I’d rather be with Kageyama. He allows me to sleep on his shoulder too, so I don’t need you,” I openly refuse. “Sorry. Life’s harsh.”

“You must sit beside me when we’re back,” Kei repeats his order with a flatter tone. “I only want to try their strawberry cake and cookies, so I’ll help you carry your stuff.”

“Seriously, Kei? Do you think you can win my heart this way?” I mumble before unlocking my phone. “But whatever. Only for this time. I won’t forgive you again next time. So, um… I need to get ten things.”

Kei gasps. “Ten? Really? After this—”

“For my family and friends, okay?! For my family and friends!” I snap, failing to handle the heat inside my heart. “You don’t have to say ‘after this, you’re going to complain about gaining weight, even when you eat like a pig’ because I won’t! Because they’re for my parents and friends who eat a lot more than me! Yes, I’m super sensitive because of my PMS, but bear with it! Like what you’ve done for the four months! You know what? Just shut up! Go sit with Yamaguchi or if you need a girl, be with Yachi!”

The only thing Kei does next is laugh, while I scowl and pout like a child throwing tantrum because her parents don’t want to buy her the doll she wants. I’m mentally and physically exhausted. My head hurts, my back hurts, my hips hurt, my legs hurt, everything I own is trying to kill me from the inside. I don’t want anything else, but to be home. I can’t wait to see the calming scenery of Torono. I can’t wait to soak myself in a hot bath until I feel completely relaxed, then jump onto my bed and cry myself to sleep. It’ll be no less or more than tears of happiness.

* * *

  _Me_  
_ 10:22 PM Where are you?  
10:22 PM I’ll arrive in less than 5 minutes_

 _ Tou-san _  
_Already here since 15 minutes ago 10:22 PM  
_

_ Me_  
  _ 10:22 PM Okay_  
  _ 10:22 PM Are you alone?_

_Tou-san  
I bring the whole family with me 10:22 PM  
_

_ Me_  
  _ 10:22 PM Okay_  
  _ 10:22 PM Takeda-sensei just told us that there won’t be any practice tomorrow_

_Tou-san_  
_You mean you’ll get a one-day holiday? 10:23 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:23 PM Yes_

_Tou-san_  
_What a perfect timing! 10:23 PM  
_

_Me_  
_10:23 PM_ _What do you mean?_

_Tou-san_  
_I’ll tell you later 10:23 PM_  
_See you 10:23 PM  
_

_Me_  
_10:23 PM_ _Hm, okay_

“Kei.” I lock my phone and tuck it inside my jacket as I look at the guy who’s sitting quietly to my right. “Are you really okay with me not going home with you?”

“I lived okay for fifteen years before I met you, so I think I can make it home safely. Thank you for your concern,” he sarcastically answers.

“Is that so?” I take a deep breath, shrouding my face with gloom and despair. “If it’s me, I won’t be okay. Have you forgotten of what happened recently? I went home alone for two weeks because you didn’t want to wait for me. Even if Azumane-san and Noya-san walked me to the train station, it didn’t feel okay, didn’t feel the same. I knew since the beginning that it had to be you. I’ll always be lonely if the one standing next to me isn’t you, Kei.”

Kei parts his mouth, only to close it again in an instance. We’re lucky that there a lot of noises surrounding us, coming from people who are too busy with themselves to notice the tension building up on the backseat. I wait for Kei’s comeback. I blink my eyes languidly while keep staring at the guy beside me, but several seconds pass in silence and he remains immobile. This setting is perfect for us to express our feelings without having to feel embarrassed since no one will really listen, but I guess for someone emotionally constricted like him, this thing doesn’t matter much.

“Hey, why are you stunned like that?” I lower my head, staring at Sawamura’s travel bag that’s used as a stool for my legs to rest. “I was only teasing you. One point for me to make you speechless like that.”

“Oh yeah? It didn’t sound like you were only teasing me.”

I chuckle as I lay my head on his shoulder for one more time. “You think so?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

“I just knew it.”

“Then… maybe you’re right. Maybe I wasn’t.” I have my eyes on Kei’s left hand that lies weakly on his hip. Just when I’m about to hold it, Kei understands what I want—he seizes my right hand and holds me tight, just like what we’ve done countless times before. It feels somewhat warmer than usual. Safer too.

“We’ll go home together on Tuesday and days after that,” he promises me the same thing he said the night we made up at Shinzen’s second gym. “If I won’t, you’ll cry. I’d rather shoot myself in the head than handle you when you cry during your PMS. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever had to go through.”

“They say pregnant women have worse case of mood-swing than that. How are you going to handle me when that day comes?”

“Wow. I thought you having your PMS was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but I totally forgot that there’s still you being pregnant.” Kei chuckles, fastening our hands together. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to have children with you.”

“What?” My eyes expand into two bigger circles as I raise my head and glance sideways at Kei. “Are you crazy? Then how will Mizuki be conceived?”

“Also don’t worry about that. I’m pretty sure a seventy-year-old guy can still put a baby in you.”

“Don’t use that kind of phrasing, please! I cringe!” I protest, but of course, light-heartedly. “And what do you mean with a seventy-year—oh, never mind. No, never mind. Don’t explain. Ugh, yuck. He’s going to be as old as my grandparents. No judgement to those who are into that, but I’m definitely not.”

“The guy who found your red ribbon. He’s not infertile because he has several children, but we can never be too sure. Let’s hope that he hasn’t gotten a vasectomy.”

“Yes! I know what you meant the first time, that’s why I told you to stop!” With my free hand, I slap Kei’s left arm as he giggles all by himself. He always finds entertainment in making me feel depressed and disgusted with this life. I don’t know if he’s simply being playful or his mind is just that sick. Measuring his overall demeanor, I prefer to believe the second option.

* * *

As Ukai drives the bus inside Karasuno’s front yard, I see my father’s silver car just outside the school gate. I grab my travel bag and one big plastic bag that contains half of my gifts from Tokyo Banana, while Kei handles his own travel bag and two other plastic bags—one is the other half of mine and the smaller one is his. We leave the bus after everyone else, merely because our position is way behind and this vehicle only has one door that is the front one. That’s how poor we are because I remember Shiratorizawa’s buses are gigantic, with two doors and maybe even their own grade-S toilet inside.

After listening to Takeda’s farewell speech and reminder for us to rest well during our break tomorrow, I dash out of the school with almost everyone, except Sawamura and Nishinoya who will be picked by their parents. Three-quarter of the group goes to their separate ways—some to the left, some to the right, and it leaves all the first years sauntering the dark road onward. Hinata will walk Yachi to the bus stop nearby, while Kei, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi will head straight to the train station without me.

“Hi, guys! How was the training camp?” Just when we reach somewhere near his car, my father rolls down the window and greets us all.  I spontaneously hold my laughter when Kageyama, Hinata, and Yamaguchi look like they’re just invited to have lunch by Watanabe Ken himself. Maybe Leonardo DiCaprio will be there too.

“Hi! Don’t forget to rest well. If you want to exercise tomorrow, then just jog for thirty minutes or do a few push-ups. Recovery is very important. Recklessly overtraining can kill you. Like, real death,” my mother adds, showing her face through my father’s window. I don’t know what to do when Hinata and Yamaguchi seem to have some sort of panic attack. They seem to be greatly dumbfounded until they can’t move a nerve. What’s hilarious is their amazed reactions being irrelevant to my mother’s topic, which is about dying.

“Will do, [L/N]-san! Nice to meet you!” Kageyama shouts, bowing strenuously before sprinting to the darkness, since the road ahead of us has very minimum lightings.

“Hey! Wait for me, Kageyama!” It’s Hinata’s turn to let out a thundering noise, but before he does something not elite, he averts his eyes to my parents and bows as deep as he can. “N-nice to meet you two! I’m Hinata Shouyou, a middle blocker from Karasuno! I-I’m a regular, even when I’m short and it’s because I-I can jump very high! Nice to meet you! I hope to see you again sometimes!”

“Hahaha. I know who you are, Shouyou,” my mother replies to Hinata and the orange-haired looks like he’s about to burst into tears, but he inhales a very long breath, turns to the left, and runs after Kageyama like he’s being chased by a group of man-eating dogs. I’m at a loss for words. I know my parents are a bit cooler than other parents because of their status, but not this extreme.

“…is that their way to hide their excitement after meeting your parents?” Kei asks me through a whisper and I shrug my shoulders.

“Tsu-Tsukki, I’ll go to Kageyama and Hinata, okay? See you later, you two. Um, let’s go, Yachi-san…” Yamaguchi tells Kei and without waiting for any yes or no from his best friend, he walks away with Yachi trailing behind him. A brief moment of silence later, I drag my feet closer to my father’s car as Kei follows me.

“Good evening, Kei. Are you getting taller since than the last time I saw you? How many months has it been?” my father happily welcomes Kei, not me and that’s fine. This isn’t the first time he’s drooling over the fair-skinned guy, so in other words, I’m pretty much used to this.

“Good evening, Eiji-san and Haruka-san. Um, no… I don’t know why people keep asking me that, but I don’t think I get any taller. Maybe only several millimeters. It’s been… almost three months since the last time I saw you,” Kei gives my father every single answer he demands.

“Eiji-san? Call me ‘Tou-san’, Kei. You’re going to marry my daughter, aren’t you?”

“What about ‘no’?” I interrupt their dumb exchange as I open the left door of the car and I literally gasp when I find a fluffy white creature curling on the middle of the grey seat. “Yue!”

“In case you miss him,” my mother says and that’s the moment I want to cry. I carefully dump my travel bag and Tokyo Banana’s plastic bag on the back of the car and grab Yue with both hands. He opens his beautiful golden eyes, but quickly closes them again and falls asleep. Like always.

“Kei, here…” I kiss Yue’s forehead before hugging him tight with both hands, letting him rest on the space between my chest and neck. “Meet Yue. Just like I told you, he sleeps all the time. You should check his eyes, they resemble yours.”

“Yes, he’s cuter in real life than in the pictures you sent me.” Kei shows me a gentle smile. “I’d love to pet him, but my hands are full of stuff.”

“Oh, Kei.” Once again, my father talks to his favorite guy. “I’ll drive you home, what about that? Your house is near our house, right?”

“Thank you for the offer, but no need, Eiji-san. It’s further than your house. I’ll just go with train. It’s only ten minutes, faster than driving me there,” Kei politely declines.

“I’ll drive you to the train station, then? Don’t say no. Get in,” my father forces Kei and this time, Kei has no choice but obey his words. I enter the car first and Kei comes in after placing the big plastic bag he’s been holding with the rest of my stuff. That means, it excludes his own bag and cakes, which he puts on the empty area between me and him. It’s not like we’re planning to hold hands, therefore this mustn’t bother anyone.

“Thank you, Eiji-san,” Kei speaks up, just before my father starts the engine of the car.

“Don’t mind it. You’re my son, after all.”

I secretly roll my eyes as I pull Yue away from my skin, only to drop him on Kei’s lap. “Here, Moon. Play with the other Moon. Haha, get it?”

“You know that joke isn’t funny, don’t you?”

“At least make me happy by laughing!” I want to punch Kei’s arm, but I realize that he’s begun stroking Yue’s body. The only reason why I hold myself is because I don’t want him to shake his figure too much and wake Yue. Most likely Yue won’t lose his bed time that easily, but I just don’t want to give him things he might hate. I love him that much.

“Hahaha, how adorable of you…” My father gives a weird praise as he looks at us through his rearview mirror. “Anyway, Kei, what’s wrong with your cheek? That long red scar, I mean.”

“Oh. Several days ago, I had a fight with a certain person. I wanted to apologize, but she made it difficult. Long story short, she scratched me when I tried to repress her anger,” Kei answers with his default style, which is him being the absolute victim of everything I do. Good for him, I’m too lazy to defend myself. Not like my father will favor my words over his, even though I’m his one and only daughter.

“Oh? Really?” My father’s tone gets quite high as he has a hard time controlling his laughter. “Well, I guess I should say welcome to the family. That certain person’s mother is just like that, maybe even worse. All I can say is prepare yourself, because pillow, frying pan, dining chair, and even a stereo will be thrown at you.”

“Stop it, Tou-san!” I stop my father from going on and on about Kei marrying me and that’s when I remember about something he told me five minutes ago. “Oh, you said you wanted to tell me something because the timing is perfect. What’s that?”

“Oh yeah,” my mother takes over the duty of explaining. “This morning, I found on the internet that Little Blasters is looking for a private coach. You’re not going to do anything during your summer break, so why don’t you apply there?”

“Little Blasters?” I lift my eyebrows in shock upon hearing the familiar name. “You mean the place where I used to practice volleyball?”

“No, it’s the fishmonger where I found you when you’re a baby. Of course, it’s that training center,” my mother responds sardonically. After such a hectic day, I really don’t feel okay with that kind of attitude, but what can I do? This woman who sits in front of me is the God of this car—and basically, this entire household.

“I’d love to work as a coach there, but do you think they’ll accept me?”

“Of course, they will,” my parents and Kei speak in unison, making me feel so stupid for even doubting myself. These three are my closest people who—luckily for me—aren’t those kinds that will sugarcoat the hurtful truth. If they guarantee my acceptance, then I must believe so.

“Okay.” I bob down my head. “And about this perfect timing… Is it because tomorrow is holiday, so I can go there?”

“Correct,” my father confirms my assumption. “We can’t drive you there, but I know you’ll be okay alone using train. You’re not scared of anything.”

“Tsutomu can go with her. His house is in Sendai,” my mother suggests something that’s actually a very good alternative of not being alone in the middle of big city like Sendai, but I bite my tongue. I give no response because I already have another plan in mind.

“You said you wanted me to accompany you?” Kei forces me to remember the time when I said I miss Hisami and want to meet her, but only if someone will be there to walk with me. “I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, so I can.”

“Eh? You’re already planning to go there?” my father asks, looking at us through the same mirror as before.

“No, I told Kei about Hisami-chan and I sort of miss her. The last time I saw her was when she visited me at the hospital. I forgot to ask her LINE.”

“Hisami is still working there, but I have no idea if she’s still teaching private classes or about her working schedule. We follow each other’s Twitter, that’s why I know a few things about her,” my mother informs me. “Just go with Kei or Tsutomu, up to you.”

“Yes. Let’s see about that,” I tell my mother before focusing my vision to the front, feeling the speed of my father’s car decrease as we arrive near the near empty train station. It’s around nine thirty p.m., thus as usual, there might only be less than three people inside the train Kei is going to ride.

“Here we are,” my father remarks our arrival as Kei puts Yue on my lap and opens the door to his right. With each hand, he grabs his travel bag and the small plastic bag of Tokyo Banana.

“Thank you, Eiji-san, Haruka-san.” Kei smiles consecutively at my father and mother, then at me. “See you tomorrow… or on Tuesday.”

“Kei, wait.” My father rotates his body to face Kei from the inside of the car. “I grant you a full consent to kiss my daughter’s cheeks and forehead.”

“Tou-san, stop!” I growl before picking Yue and trying to wave his limp left hand at Kei. “Bye-bye, Kei-chan. I’ll chat you later or tomorrow morning. Take care. Shoo, shoo.”

Kei lets out a weak chortle. “What ‘shoo, shoo’? Silly.”

“Kei, don’t forget your plastic bag back there.” Just after Kei steps one of his long legs outside the car, my mother reminds him.

“Oh no, that’s hers,” Kei says without looking at the person he’s conversing with. In a heartbeat, he gets himself outside the car, gives us all one last time, and walks toward the train station. I watch him sightseeing the sky full of stars above, but my father doesn’t waste any second to drive us to the next destination, which is our house. That makes me stare back at empty road ahead, putting Yue once again onto my lap.

“What did you buy? I only asked for three things, you got like twenty,” my mother prolongs the topic from before. She’s not someone who’ll let a mystery remains unrevealed, so this interrogation is very predictable by me.

“Ten, precisely,” I correct her exaggeration. “Shiki-chan wants some for himself and his friends.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Um, also Tou-san… Kaa-san… There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time…” My eyes are riveted on Yue and since my parents keep holding their tongue in, I continue, “Actually, I’ve been chatting and calling Ushijima for the past two months.”

“Hah?!” My mother shouts and I almost jump from my seat. “Ushijima Wakatoshi?!”

“Uh, yes. Who else?” I ask back. Honestly, I wanted to reply with “no, it’s Ushijima the fishmonger who took care of me as a baby before you came and adopted me”, but I don’t want to get punched on the face. Not today.

“Eh? Does Kei know about this?” Obviously, my father has to connect everything with that guy.

“None of my friends in Karasuno know about this, but Ushijima-san’s closest friends do. Shiki-can knows too.” For the first time after a while, I enjoy the view on my left, where I see many kinds of stores with colorful lamps ornamenting their exterior. “Please safe yourself from assuming that I have a crush on Ushijima-san, but I’m going to ask him to accompany me tomorrow.”

“Ah…” my father sounds mournful about something I can pretty much comprehend. “Aren’t you planning to tell your friends about knowing Wakatoshi? Especially Kei?”

“I’m planning to tell them soon, but Tou-san, can you please also stop with this whole Kei thing? What’s with him? Why are you implying as if I’ve done something unforgivable to him? I can hang out with anyone I want, can’t I?” I ask four questions in one go. Maybe it’s my PMS that turns me into a sensitive ball of fire, but supposedly, it’s my father’s wording. One of the many last things I wish for myself tonight is to be blamed over a sin I don’t think I’ve committed.

“No, it’s just… In my eyes, this doesn’t seem appropriate.” My father sighs, making my chest hurt because I’m criticized over simple stuff like this. “I thought there’s something special going on between you and Kei, but now I found out that there’s the same thing between you and Wakatoshi too.”

“What are you talking about? Drama queen. That’s why, watch biography or any other based on true story movies, not teenage romance shows,” my mother curtly chimes in and shuts my father. “Don’t worry. Just go with Wakatoshi. He’s a nice person.”

“Yes.” I graze Yue’s head, being puzzled at my parents’ different reactions toward my story, but I know which one I like more. “Thanks, Kaa-san…”

* * *

As soon as I arrive at my house, I drop my bag full of dirty clothes onto the laundry basket and just leave it like that because I’m going to take care of them when I’m about to take a bath. My father helps me with the Tokyo Banana, which means that I can immediately run upstairs to my bedroom with Yue still in my arms. When I open the door, the air conditioner is already turned on and I’m cured. I know that I had one during training camp, but it never felt the same as this one. Home is surely the example of heaven on earth.

“Yue, here sleep here…” I put Yue down on the edge of my bed before I take out my phone from my jacket. I rush to open my LINE and tap on Ushijima’s private chat. It’s not like I have no time to take things easy, but I need to briskly move if I want to sleep in under thirty minutes.

 _ Ushijima _  
_Please chat me when you’re home 9:03 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 10:50 PM I’m home  
10:50 PM Are you still awake?  
_

_ Ushijima _  
_Hi there 10:50 PM_  
_10:50 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 10:50 PM I’m all worn out, but can we have a call?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Of course 10:50 PM  
_

It’s not even three seconds when I get a call from Ushijima and I hurriedly answer him. “Ushijima-san?”

“Hey there.” I hear his deep voice from the other side of the line and it makes me all giggly and flowery. If Yue were a human and awake, he would probably slap me with a fish.

“Hey, so… Um, want to go out tomorrow?” I go straight to the point. Even if I opt to be more direct than this, Ushijima won’t get mad or feel awful. He’s that considerate of my behavior.

“Sure.” His approval comes within a millisecond. “Where and what time?”

“Do you know that volleyball training center for kids called Little Blasters in Sendai? My mother just told me that they’re looking for a private coach and I’m thinking of applying there. We can do things after I’m done with that… Like maybe we eat or watch a movie? There’s also no club practice for me tomorrow, so I can be with you until you go to your night practice. Everything just fits.”

“Ah…” Ushijima speaks right after I’m finished. “Of course I know Little Blasters. I used to practice there.”

“Really? So did I!” I enthusiastically squeak. “How come we never met each other? I was there since the first grade until sixth grade. I was in a private class, though… Maybe that’s why?”

“I was there since second grade until sixth and I was in a private class as well.”

I chuckle at this twist of fate, a funny one. “Maybe we did meet each other, but we didn’t know. If we had met and talked, we would’ve been childhood friends.”

“I always walked there alone. If my father were there, your parents would’ve noticed. I think our story would’ve been so different.”

“Yes, it would, wouldn’t it?” I agree before realizing that I need to stop talking about this, unless if I want to ruin the mood between us over the past that can’t be altered, no matter how hard we try. “Anyway, let’s meet somewhere near Little Blasters at ten a.m.? Don’t eat too much during breakfast so we can enjoy our lunch.”

“Okay. I’m going to pick you up.”

“What? No, that’s a waste of time,” I straight off reject his idea. “Let’s just meet at Little Blasters.”

“Please let me pick you up?” He uses such a velvety voice that can make me yield on this very moment, but I won’t fall to this simple trick.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No. It takes forty-five minutes from Shiratorizawa to my house and we have to go back to Sendai again. You’ll waste an hour and a half for this. For what? You can use the time to stream a volleyball match.”

“You count it wrong,” Ushijima stops me from speculating more than this. “Yes, I’ll waste forty-five minutes to come there, but in return, I’ll get another forty-five minutes with you.”

And that’s it. I lose. This guy only needs one sentence and my entire wall is broken, made from bricks that I thought were very firm. If he were to use an even better reasoning, I would offer him my entire life.

“…are you stupid?” I sheepishly murmur. “Fine. Be here at nine.”

“Really?” Only from the timbre of his voice, I can tell that Ushijima is being all joyful and perhaps also dancing around his room like a weirdo. He’s so cute that I want to hug him and never let go.

“Yes, really!” I exclaim, thinking that the cold air around me is so pointless against my blazing cheeks. “I’m going to clean up and sleep. It’s already late and I have to wake up early.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow at nine. Sleep well.”

“You too,” I say the last sentence before ending the call with a broad smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***dies from writing too much***
> 
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> I don’t know about how much Ushijima should’ve gotten paid, but I googled and found numbers between $30k-$40k for international U19 athletes, so I just made it to 2 million yen. If you have a more valid information, please share so I can edit the story accordingly. ;)
> 
> I also made a [Tumblr](https://itskohi.tumblr.com/)! If you follow me, I’ll follow you back, unless if you’re porn blogs or you seem suspicious in general. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I have a list of great indie folk songs there, so please check it out! I’m never a social media person, I don’t know what should I put on my Tumblr, but I’ll figure something out soon…
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading until this far! Have a nice week~ ♥♥♥


	41. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [This, kind of.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08otuC7Ed_A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kohi in the previous chapter: I’ll never write something this long ever again!  
> Kohi in this chapter: This one is also 17k words…
> 
> \- ANYWAY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 10K+ HITS AND THANK YOU EVEN MORE FOR STAYING SINCE THE BEGINNING  
> \- SORRY THAT I WAS GONE LONGER THAN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER, I WAS DISTRACTED BY SO MANY THINGS  
> \- AND WHY DIDN’T I REALIZE THAT YOU COULD EMBED .GIF HERE AAAAAAAAA
> 
> *cough cough* ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> The title of this chapter is inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XlH7gSvAkc) (turn on the CC for subtitle). You may have known how much I adore _Kimi no Na Wa._ , but in all honesty, I don’t really enjoy Shinkai’s other creations. I’m quite traditional when it comes to age gap in dating, so I’m not a big fan of this rainy story, set aside the overall plot not being well-written and well-paced enough. I do like him for making bittersweet endings though. ;)
> 
> Important!  
> 1\. Don’t scroll down if you don’t want any spoiler. Seriously. :’(  
> 2\. If you don’t have any time to spare, you can REALLY just watch the video from before, scroll down, write me some comments because I’m such an attention seeker, and move on with your day. It won’t make that much of a difference. (´・ω・`)  
> 3\. I have more things to write, but I must remove some cause there are just too many things going on. I think 25k words for 1 chapter is a bit too much. XD
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

_ Kei _  
_How is it? 8:38 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 8:45 AM What?_

 _ Kei _  
_Are you going to Little Blasters with me or not? 8:45 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 8:45 AM Why are you so eager?_  
_ 8:46 AM Do you want to spend this one holiday with me that much?_

 _Kei_  
_8:46 AM_

 _ Me_  
_8:46 AM …_  
_8:46 AM Where did you get that sticker?_

 _ Kei _  
_I bought it of course, stupid 8:46 AM_  
_Is there any other way? 8:46 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_8:46 AM_ _But you said stickers are a waste of money  
_

_Kei_  
_So?_  
_8:46 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:46 AM Uh…_

 _ Kei _  
_What? 8:46 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_8:46 AM_ _I don’t like it  
8:46 AM It’s so sarcastic, you’re going to keep using it…_

 _Kei_  
_8:47 AM_

 _ Me_  
_8:47 AM_ _See?!_

  
_Kei_  
_Whatever, just answer my question 8:47 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 8:47 AM Ugh_  
_ 8:47 AM I don’t want to go with you_  
_ 8:47 AM I’m already planning to go with someone else_  
_ 8:47 AM Someone very handsome_

 _Kei_  
_8:47 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:47 AM I’m serious!_  
_ 8:47 AM I’m going on a date with that person!_

 _ Kei _  
_If you see your father as your “date”, then good luck on being forever single 8:48 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 8:48 AM What?_

 _ Kei _  
_Never thought you’re into incest 8:48 AM_  
_Gross 8:48 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:48 AM Never mind!_  
_ 8:48 AM Don’t talk to me until the summer break ends!_

 _Kei_  
_8:48 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 8:48 AM I hate you_

 _Kei_  
_8:48 AM_

 _ Me_  
_8:48 AM_ _Seriously, what creature are you?!_

 _ Kei _  
_8:48 AM_

I want to write a few more things to Kei, but I quickly change my mind. Let this be the first time I only read his chat, after he’s done the same thing to me for at least fifty times—which basically is the amount of times we ever text each other, despite the fact that we’ve been friends for months. I lock my phone and put the gadget inside a white handbag that lies on the middle of my bed. Since I’m not the kind of person that wears makeup or excessive perfume, there’s nothing inside besides a wallet, a resume in a folder, a comb, sunglasses, and two silver keys, one for my house’s gate and one for the front door.

“Oi, what are you doing?! Hurry up!”

I grunt when I hear my mother yell for the third time in the past five minutes. Before going anywhere, I take one last look of my overall appearance in the dressing table’s full body mirror. I wear a simple white short-sleeved t-shirt that’s tucked inside my favorite long grey jeans. I tend to do this to a top that’s too long since it makes me look a bit more fashionable, like I have a style and I know what I’m doing with it. I guess it’ll look better if I add a dark-colored belt, but I’m not a fan of that. Last but not least, I let my hair goes down, just because I only tie it when I need to move a lot.

“Hey!”

“Yes, yes! I’m coming!” I shout back at my mother, grabbing my bag from my bed, turning off my air conditioner, and rushing downstairs like I’m trying to save myself from a sudden house fire. Before my feet physically step on the first floor, I can already see the woman in white tracksuit, holding a cup of her beloved coffee in the hallway that connects several main rooms of this house.

“Seriously, can’t you dress up better than that? You have some summer dresses!” she exclaims before blowing her drink and chugging it slowly, perhaps in fear to burn her tongue.

“I’m going to Sendai, not a rural beach, so no, I’m not going to wear a thin dress that will show the straps of my bra,” I refuse to acknowledge her criticism of my preference in fashion. I’m still in the process of accepting that no matter where I walk, I’ll always be the center of attention. With that in mind, parading myself in colorful palettes and skimpy fabrics is the dumbest thing I can do. I haven’t gotten through fifty percent of this stressful life, let alone adding another two hundred of it.

“Whatever. Just know that he looks very good,” she says as she passes by me, straight to the living room that’s just ten seconds away from the stairs. “Well, frankly speaking, he’ll still look gorgeous in a rice sack. That’s the advantage of having a great figure and face. He’s so fine.”

“Can you please stop drooling over a teenager thirty years younger than you?” I protest as I move my legs to follow her. It used to be very tongue-in-cheek when she praised Ushijima like he’s been crowned as the most handsome man ever lived, but it’s becoming uncomfortable now that she keeps reiterating her obsession every time he’s mentioned in a conversation. I can’t quite convey my feeling through words, but I just want my family to behave in a classy manner when someone like Ushijima Wakatoshi is around.

“Twenty-eight.” That’s her last retort before we arrive at the living room. I find Ushijima sitting alone on a sofa that can fit two people his size with Yue sleeping on his lap. The first thing that hits me is the truth my mother told. Ushijima manages to steal my breath away in just a boring collarless ivory shirt and long black jeans. What he has is no more special than mine, but there’s just something about his overall physique that makes him look so much better than those professional catwalk models.

“Good morning,” he warmly greets me and I flutter my eyelids, bringing myself back from exploring every inch of his tanned skin. I wonder what I’ve just done. I know how it feels to be creeped out when he intensely stares at me, so I mustn’t return the unpleasant favor back to him. I’m sure he won’t wrongfully judge me over this and cancel the date, but today must start and end up well.

“Yes, good morning.” I tug the corners of my lips. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ushijima-san.”

“No. It was me who came too early.” Ushijima stands up, placing Yue down on the spot he sat on just a second ago. It’s good that Yue isn’t shedding too much, thus Ushijima only needs to pat his jeans a couple of times to fully get rid of some white hair sticking to its surface.

“Hahaha. You did, actually. It’s not even nine now… right?” I glance at the clock hung just above the doorway behind me. “It’s still ten minutes before nine. We have plenty of time.”

“So what if he came too early? He’s just excited to meet you today. He even wasted his precious time to pick you up. Who else would that to you? Be grateful,” my mother unnecessarily snarls at me.

“Kaa-san, I wasn’t complaining. I was just saying that the time was—you know what? Never mind.” I exhale a deep breath before I look at Ushijima and continue, “Let’s go, Ushijima-san. Bye, Kaa-san.”

“Okay. Excuse me, Haruka-san.” Ushijima politely bows to my mother before he trails behind me. We head to the entryway and sit down on the floor to wear our respective slip-on shoes—his is black and mine is blue. Since I’m done earlier, I take the charge to open the front door and squint upon perceiving the light from the outside.

The sun feels quite nice since it’s still early in the morning, but I mustn’t be that happy-go-lucky because who knows if it’ll drastically change in three hours? I’ve gone through fifteen summers in this certain town, so I kind of remember every little thing that’s going on around here. I too realize that lately the weather has become more extreme than last year or years before that. I have no knowledge in this field, hence just like everybody else, I’ll blame it all on the global warming or us, humans, who have created it.

“Ushijima-san, sorry about my mother. She couldn’t handle herself after I told her that I’m going out with you today,” I start a new conversation when we reach the front gate of the house, but before I even touch the latch, Ushijima reaches out and opens it for both of us. The kindness in his eyes suggests me to walk out first before he does, so I step forward with a big smile framing my face. I’m delighted by his smooth gesture because it seems like he doesn’t do this just to impress me or to make me think of him as a real gentleman. He does this because he believes it’s the right thing to do.

“She seems happy to see us together,” Ushijima responds as he positions himself perfectly to my right, so we could walk side by side to our next destination, which is the nearby train station. Estimately, it’ll take us less than ten minutes to be there.

“She’s very happy, yes. Ever since we met at that party, she hasn’t stopped talking about you. She always calls you handsome, gorgeous, good-looking, and many more. She adores you so much, it’s so crazy,” I reveal a few things I’ve never told him before.

“Am I?”

“Hm?” I raise my eyebrows. “What?”

He stares back at me. “Handsome, gorgeous, good-looking, and many more?”

“Of course! You don’t have to ask me or anyone that!” I exclaim, reassuring him over a self-consciousness he’s not supposed to have. “Hey, it’s not because you’re a well-known volleyball player. Even if you were no one, you’d still be very handsome and gorgeous and good-looking. Seriously, why are you even asking this? Should I get you a mirror or something?”

“No, I understand.” He solemnly nods his head several times, as if I just explained him the theory of relativity. “Some people have called me that way, but somehow… it feels better when you’re the one saying it.”

“Feels better? What do you mean?” I ask because I genuinely don’t grasp his point. Sometimes I can be very dumb, especially if I haven’t gotten twelve hours of undisturbed sleep like today.

As usual, Ushijima gives me an adoring gaze—it’s one thing that always traps my eyes from looking at somewhere else but him. “It’s because to me, you matter the most.”

My heart freezes, ignoring the fact that this isn’t the appropiate weather for it to happen. It’ll be the greatest lie of the year if I say that I’m not happy and flattered upon hearing his unsurprising honesty. I want to blame him over the contentment I feel, but I suppose it’s more my fault than his, even when it’s not me who started it all. I mean, I should’ve gotten used to the way he voices out his opinion. I should’ve known all along that he often chooses words that can effortlessly defeat the powerful message of the most expensive chocolates and flowers.

“Thank you, but it’s…” I tuck my hair behind my right ear, smiling once again. “Don’t you think it’s too early for speaking… uh, so cutely at me?”

“Speaking so cutely…?” he repeats my question while doing the thing he tends to do whenever he doesn’t understand a thing—he slants his head to one side.

I inwardly curse at my inability to use the simple word “flirting”, but I quickly shake my head like a drenched dog trying to dry her body. “Nothing! Forget it!”

“Ah… but I’m not cute.” With no prior warning, Ushijima caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, making me shiver from the unfamiliar yet thrilling sensation. “You’re the cute one.”

“No!” I leap sideways, creating quite a distance between us. “Don’t touch me that casually! That’s bad, Ushijima-san!”

“Bad? But you said I could touch you?” He shows me a puzzled look, reminding me of the permission I gave him weeks ago. This guy is the ideal example of an innocent soul in a dirty world, which can be good and also bad. If I tell him I’m going to get married to my math teacher next year, he’ll most likely believe it and offer his help to handle the decorations. He’s an easy prey and it takes everything in me not to prank him at this very moment.

“Yes, but we’re in public. I don’t you want you to touch me in public. I’ve made this clear, haven’t I?” I warn him with the softest tone I can possibly use to someone. I never want to hurt him, so I hope he’ll understand my good intention without me having to explain it five more times.

“But there isn’t anyone around.” He darts his eyes around the long street we’re taking. “It’s so quiet here, I doubt there’ll be someone.”

“Of course there’ll be someone. This street doesn’t belong to my family. It’s for everyone to use, even ghosts can glide through here.”

“Ghosts…?” For some reasons, he seems very interested in this subject. “You mean the real creepy ghosts like Chiyoko? Have you seen them around here?”

I chuckle at his pureness and how he can never distinguish the playful meaning behind my story. “No, Ushijima-san. I was just saying some random stuff. There’s no ghost here. Now how about we talk about something else?”

“Hm, okay?” he obediently replies. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Um… Have you had breakfast?” I continue with what may seem like a dull topic for two people who have spent some nights discussing about things from panda videos until the price of the world’s best volleyball net, but I have to.

“Yes. I woke up at five to have my morning run, so yes, I have. I had two tuna _onigiri_ ,” he explains more than what I need to hear, but it’s not like I’ll berate him over this. If anything, I should be glad that he feels safe enough to share every single detail of his daily routine with me. He won’t do this with just any random person.

“I haven’t,” I concisely tell him. “Unlike you, I’m lazy. I woke up at eight thirty and I immediately took a shower because I was late. My alarm should’ve gone off at eight, but I don’t remember it happened.”

“It’s normal. You’re tired from your training camp,” Ushijima reassures me that I’m far from being lazy, but I guess it’s because he hasn’t seen me struggle to move on from all the beauty of a long holiday. “We can have breakfast before we go to Little Blasters.”

“Yes, we should! I’m starving!” I enthusiastically exclaim. “Is there a good café in Sendai? I want to eat some cakes. Like Starbucks’, but I’ve eaten most of their desserts, so I want the new ones that aren’t theirs.”

He frowns a tad, presumably thinking of some places that I might enjoy. “Have you gone to Excelsior? They have more food than Starbucks, like pasta, pizza, and panini.”

“No, I’ve never heard about it. Is it an Italian café?” I question the obvious, regarding the type of food they sell.

“Maybe? I don’t know, they sell many stuff.”

“That’s fine, I’ve been wanting to eat pizza for weeks now. Let’s go there, okay?” I grin as I tap his defined arm a couple of times. I hope this isn’t merely a vain feeling of mine, but I can catch a glint of joyfulness on his face. Everything would be clearer if he could smile like other people whenever I cracked some jokes with them, but if he’s born this way, then I have no rights to change anything. His kindness will always stay the same and there’s nothing more important than that.

* * *

Even when we’re in the middle of a summer break, the area around Torono Station isn’t that crowded. There are only two explanations to that. One, the population of this town is very small, so there won’t be a lot of people going out. Two, it’s already nine, which means that those who still need to work throughout the long holiday have already left this place at least half an hour ago. I really don’t mean to complain about this situation because it’s obvious that my heart is filled with bliss. There’s less chance of me bumping into someone I know, specifically those who know me personally.

“Ushijima-san, please wait.” Twenty meters away from the train station, I pull the hem of Ushijima’s shirt and make the guy stop. He looks over his shoulder at me, lifting both of his eyebrows with no words spoken from his mouth. With nothing coming from me either, I let go of him and unzip the bag that’s been coiling my right should. I take out my sunglasses, but before I unfold the item, Ushijima wraps both of my hands with his dominant one. It’s so big that he doesn’t need any help from the other one.

“What are you doing?” he grimly asks as I raise my head and lock our eyes together.

“Me? Um… Wearing… sunglasses?” I get uneasy from the way he glares down at me. I don’t exaggerate, but it truly feels like I just purposely stomped on a weak kitten and killed it in an instant.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” Ushijima’s voice resembles a lion’s growl as he squints his eyes, making me feel worse and more intimidated by each passing second.

“Why can’t I? It’s my habit to wear sunglasses when I’m out and…” I gulp before I speak out the rest of my reasoning, “It’s summer, you know.”

“No, it’s not a habit and it has nothing to do with the season.” Ushijima confiscates my sunglasses with such force that can injure me if I don’t completely loosen my grip. “I thought we were over this.”

I bite my lower lip because I know what he means, but it’s unlike me to surrender that easily. “No… Give them back… Please, Ushijima-san…? I want to wear them… Please…?”

“No,” he declines, not falling for my cutesy. “Why are you still scared if people find out about you? Didn’t you say that you would be okay with this?”

“No, I never said that! I said that I’ll tell my teammates about us, not the entire Japan!”

“You said it’s fine if we have lunch during preliminaries this October. The media will definitely be there, together with hundreds of other people. What difference does it make with today? Sooner or later, the entire Japan will know that we’re together.”

“But—”

“No, no buts. With or without me, you aren’t allowed to wear sunglasses or hat when you’re far from your house. Understand?” Ushijima leans forward and puts the sunglasses back inside my bag, zipping it right after. “Please don’t get upset. I’m doing this for you. You know you can’t live forever like this.”

I convey my disapproval through a guttural groan. “Yeah, but a celebrity can. They always wear masks and even wigs to disguise themselves.”

“You’re not a celebrity.” After he’s done with my bag, he moves his hand to my forehead, heedfully fixing my fringe like my entire head belongs to a newborn baby. “Everything will be fine. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

I pout, letting him touch me wherever and however he desires. “Well, then… You should help me chase those bad people if they try to bother me.”

“Chase? Why should we chase them? We can just ask them to stop.” Once again, he sincerely takes my joke as one serious matter. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll keep you safe.”

I don’t have to worry about anything because he’ll keep me safe.

It’s not like I ever need a guardian because even if my body isn’t as strong as it was last summer, I still have enough power to punch people, maybe until they fall on the ground if I’m lucky again. But then again, it’s not like I’ll take it the wrong way if someone wonderful comes by and promises me that he’ll make sure no one is allowed to hurt me. It’s impossible if those words don’t touch the deepest part of my heart, that’s why I lower my head out of shyness, looking at the ten centimeters gap between our shoes. I realize just how close we stand next to each other.

“Fine…” After some time, I gain the nerve to stare back at the guy in front of me. “Let’s go to the train station. My stomach is crying. It wants food.”

The look on Ushijima’s face is more disoriented than if I were to tell him that sheep used to lay eggs. “Your stomach is crying when it’s hungry? You mean it makes a crying sound? How come? Is that normal?”

“…figuratively, Ushijima-san. Figuratively,” I say while trying to contain my laughter. One deep breath later, I clap Ushijima’s back twice before walking forward, most likely leaving him ponder about the logic behind a crying stomach when the only part of our body that can shed a tear is the eyes. Too bad for him, I won’t bother explaining until he understands. Let him be adorable in his own way since it makes our date way more entertaining than it should.

* * *

Inside the train, there are only around ten people, which makes the overall setting quite the same as the outside. Ushijima seems to want to sit somewhere else, but the same as before, I stop him by pulling the back of his shirt and point at the empty seat beside the door. Just because this train isn’t the one I ride to school, doesn’t mean that my favorite place will change correspondingly. We don’t need to waste even a word to sit on where I want, with me choosing to be on his left and my bag lying on my lap. The spot beside me is empty, but I’d rather hold my own belongings and feel secure about everything.

“I always sit near the door since it’s faster and easier for me to leave,” I inform Ushijima the reason why we’re here and he only rocks his head once as a response. One of the many lucky things I get from being with him is that he’s not the kind to make a fuss over something inessential. He will never burn my ears from complaining too much.

A moment before the train begins the move, I grab my phone out of my bag. I’m not sure if there’s someone who’ll text me this early—besides Kei who was there only to bully me—but much to my surprise, I see Yamagata’s full name on my screen. The only person in this world who’ll waste their free time writing “good morning” to me is Ushijima, then maybe Goshiki when he has the exceptional case of waking up before noon during holiday. Since I was constantly wondering on why I didn’t get any apology from Yamagata, I hurriedly unlock my phone and open his chat.

“Ushijima-san, Yamagata-san is finally chatting me,” I tell Ushijima and he immediately inclines his body toward me, wanting to catch a glimpse of what his libero has written for me.

 _Yamagata_  
_Good morning Hime-chan! 9:07 AM_  
_I just read the group chat and please forgive me for everything! 9:07 AM_  
_9:07 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:13 AM Hi, there!_  
_ 9:13 AM Are you Rakuten?_

“Wow, that’s fast,” I react accordingly when the speed of Yamagata reading my chat is faster than the light.

 _ Yamagata _  
_Rakuten? 9:13 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:13 AM Yes, your apology came after 2 days_  
_ 9:13 AM Not “business” days, though_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Sorry, Hime-chan! I lost my phone! 9:13 AM  
_

“He does this all the time.” I feel Ushijima’s breath brushing against my right cheek. The only thing I can do to prevent this from happening again is scoot away, but that’ll hurt the giant because he’ll assume that I dislike his company or whatnot. I’m not heartless enough to do that.

 _ Me_  
_ 9:13 AM How could you lose your phone?_

 _ Yamagata _  
_I thought I left it in my friend’s room when I played game there, but apparently, I left it inside my wardrobe. It was hidden beneath some clothes, I didn’t know 9:14 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:14 AM How could it get there?_  
_ 9:14 AM Hahaha_

 _ Yamagata _  
_I don’t know. Please don’t laugh 9:14 AM_  
_9:14 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:14 AM Just be careful next time_  
_ 9:14 AM Keep it inside your pocket all the time or get a neck strap if necessary_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Yes! 9:14 AM_  
_By the way, how’s your date? 9:14 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:14 AM I’m in a train to Sendai_

 _ Yamagata _  
_How’s Wakatoshi? 9:14 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:14 AM He’s sitting right beside me  
9:14 AM We’re reading your chat together_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Oh! Have fun! 9:14 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:15 AM Thanks!_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Aren’t you going to buy the newest Brown and Cony’s sticker set? 9:15 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:15 AM Which one?_  
_ 9:15 AM I think I have almost all of them_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Wait, let me give you the links 9:15 AM_  
_<https://store.line.me/stickershop/product/5510>  9:15 AM _  
_<https://store.line.me/stickershop/product/7776>  9:15 AM _  
_<https://store.line.me/stickershop/product/2351>  9:15 AM _

I tap on the first the link and my heart nearly stops from watching the characters move—which I clearly don’t expect to happen at all. “Ushijima-san! Look! It’s so cute!”

“Ah, they can move? Do you want that one?”

“I want all of them!” I shout as I go back to Yamagata’s chat and press on the second link, only to melt even more because everything gets a million times cuter. “I didn’t know that LINE has animated stickers! I guess this is very new? I’ll buy some coins when I’m home.”

“Hang on.” Ushijima lifts his lower body just high enough for him to have an access to the phone in his left back pocket.

“No.” Before he tells me his obvious intention, I warn him to stop. “Thank you, but you don’t have to buy me the stickers. I have my own savings that I can use and you’ve done enough for me.”

“I have some leftover coins from buying the Brown stickers. How else am I supposed to spend them?” Ushijima subtly coerces me to give in and it only takes three seconds for me to take back all the reasons I want to use to support my turndown. He wins. Again. For the same purpose of me not wanting to hurt him by rejecting his generosity. Again.

I opt to sigh and stare at the screen of his phone, silently waiting for him to finish all the transactions. I’ve never met someone this selfless, to the point that he sends the stickers to me before he does to himself. Even more than that, no one has ever bought me a sticker. One time when I was in middle school, I asked my mother, but she said that it’s a waste of money. The next time, I asked my father, he agreed, but he never did it and I even forgot to remind him about that. I never came to anyone else for this, but most likely they wouldn’t move as fast as Ushijima.

“Go check on them,” Ushijima tells me and I nod my head, complying with his order by opening my LINE. After I’m sure that I get everything, I murmur a “thank you” before hrading to Yamagata’s chat. I really need to share this joyful moment with someone and he’s the only one available. I surely can go to Shiratorizawa’s group chat, but I don’t want to create any ruckus.

 _Me_  
_ 9:18 AM Yamagata-san, look~_  
  
_9:18 AM_ _Ushijima-san just bought me all three of them_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Congratulations! 9:18 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:18 AM Not sure if “congratulations” is the right reaction, but thanks!_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Hahaha 9:18 AM_  
_This isn’t shocking, Hime-chan 9:18 AM_  
_Wakatoshi always treats you like a real princess 9:19 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:19 AM Uh?_  
_9:19 AM I guess so_  
_ 9:19 AM Yeah_  
_9:19 AM Maybe_  
_ 9:19 AM He’s very kind_

 _ Yamagata _  
_Aw… Hime-chan is blushing… 9:19 AM_  
_9:19 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:19 AM No, I’m not!_

“How is it? You like the stickers?”

“Yeah.” I close Yamagata’s chat as I look at Ushijima, showing him a crooked smile because it seems like I’ve lost the ability to stretch my lips normally, all from doing it too much in under fifteen minutes. “Here, let’s try using them. Let me write something to you. Go check on your phone.”

“Okay,” he agrees as I begin typing.

 _ Me_  
_ 9:20 AM Ushijima-san~_  
_9:20 AM _

_ Ushijima _  
_You’re welcome 9:20 AM_  
_9:20 AM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:20 AM Question? :D_  
_9:20 AM_ _Will you buy everyone a sticker?_

 _ Ushijima _  
_Everyone? 9:20 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:20 AM Like the people that you know_

_Ushijima_  
_No, only you 9:20 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:20 AM Only me?_

_Ushijima_  
_Yes 9:20 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:21 AM But what if it’s your good friend?_  
_ 9:21 AM Like Tendou-san?_

_Ushijima_  
_He’s okay_

_Me_  
_ 9:21 AM Then it’s not “only me”!_

_Ushijima_  
_But if I have to choose between gifting you or Tendou, I’ll choose you 9:21 AM  
_

_Me_  
_9:21 AM_ _Aw, you’re really the best!_  
_9:21 AM_

_ Ushijima _  
_Why are we chatting if we can just speak? 9:21 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 9:21 AM You’re right!_  
_9:21 AM_

_ Ushijima _  
_9:21 AM_

“Hey, Ushijima-san,” I call the guy’s name as I glance at him with an enticing look in my eyes. “Do you… Do you want to pinch my cheeks for real?”

He seems stupefied by my offer, but every muscle on his face quickly softens. “…can I?”

“Fifty thousand yen.” I grin while raising all five of my left fingers in the air. I haven’t received any payment confirmation when Ushijima puts his phone on his lap and uses both of his hands to cup each one of my cheeks. I thought he was going to play with them and make me look like a fish out of a tank, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes quite a big part of my flesh and kneads them, considerate enough not to hurt me. He then tries to wiggle them from side to side, very akin to what Brown did to Cony.

“Ah.” Ten seconds later, Ushiijma makes a sound. “They’re chubby, but apparently not too pinchable.”

“Hey! Did you just call me chubby? Rude!” I slap his hands, shocking him in the process.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult, I’m sorry.” He genuinely looks and sounds remorseful.

“No, not forgiven. You don’t get to say stuff like that to girls. Mean.” I put my phone back inside my bag before turning my head away to the opposite side of where he is. This is clearly unnecessary, but I fold my arms in front of my chest to emphasize my non-existent anger. Does that make me the mean one?

“Please don’t take it the wrong way. I won’t say anything like this anymore, okay?” His tone comes out mild, but full of terror, as if I just asked him to go home before our date officially begins.

I shrug, teasing him even more, not knowing when to stop. “Whatever, I’m going to sleep. You must wake me up when we’re—”

I’m unable to finish my sentence as I feel Ushijima stroking the top of my head, then guiding me to safely lean on his shoulder. I don’t know who taught him this affectionate gesture. Maybe he copied it from watching a TV show, maybe he read it from a romance _manga_ some time ago, or maybe some of his friends told him to do this to me when the time fits. I simply can’t bring myself to refuse this warmth. I hear him whisper “sleep well” as I close my eyes, only to finally realize that his sturdy arm feels more like a home than anyone else out there. With zero effort, he hushes me to sleep quicker than I anticipate.

* * *

It’s not strange for Sendai Station to be full of people, considering it’s the biggest train station in Miyagi that connects all kinds of trains from so many directions that I can’t remember one by one. Clearly, this isn’t my first time being here after my accident. I was just here two weeks ago when my mother forced me to go to Shiratorizawa. Even before that, I’d been here hundreds of times for various occasions, but I was always protected by my hat or sunglasses. This time, I feel so vulnerable and if that’s not enough, there’s a popular guy with distinctive physique beside me. I swear I can feel everyone watching us like a hawk.

“Hurry, hurry, let’s get out of here. Where’s the café? Ugh, I hope we don’t bump into someone we know,” I mewl as I cast my eyes down, hoping no one will notice my existence. I know it’s impossible since I haven’t had any plastic surgery to alter my entire face, but I can’t stop incanting some prayers in my heart.

“It’s a five-minute walk from here,” Ushijima answers me after we walk past one thousand people, making me wonder if Monday is a wise option to have a date or not. I suppose it’s still better than weekends, but what I’d love more is if there’s only me and Ushijima in this place.

I continue striding while hiding my identity as much as I can, kind of like a semi-professional special agent. Before long, we’re free from the hustle and bustle of the station behind us. It’s only a bit less busy outside since this place is surrounded by many restaurants, cafés, and even stands that sell snacks or juices, but somehow, I feel way calmer. My best guess will be that it’s not too cramped around here, therefore I have more space to take a deep breath and relax my shoulders. Maybe also because there are actual things to look at, so people’s focus won’t be taken too much by one random girl and one random guy.

Just like Ushijima said, it takes us five to seven minutes to arrive at a café that looks similar to our regular Starbucks, only that this one is called Excelsior. Besides the latter’s name being a tad cooler, the interior and exterior of these two places are just the same. Starbuck’s logo is green, while Excelsior’s is blue with the first letter being green. Their walls are painted in dark brown and they have huge glass windows that make us able to see what’s inside. I believe Starbucks were established years before Excelsior, so it’s safe to say that we all know who copied who.

“Eh, there’s only one costumer?” I remark the emptiness I find. I do feel elated that I can munch and gulp without caring about what others will think, but on the other hand, this is quite unexpected since the time now is perfect for anyone to get their morning coffee and pastry. There are around fifteen round tables with sofas surrounding them. They look fancier than Starbucks, but it’s better if I don’t judge too much before I actually sit on them.

“Let’s order,” Ushijima says as he guides me to the counter, where I can see all the cakes they have and the prices being displayed on the wall up there. I thought this one was going to be at least two hundred yen cheaper than Starbucks, but they’re the same. That said, the taste should be up to par.

“Ushijima-san, we should order different food so we can share them.” Before everything, I advise Ushijima something efficient. Weeks ago, I wouldn’t want to do this with him, but things have changed a lot. We’ve gotten very close to the point that I’ll call him my beloved friend, the one that won’t leave, backstab, or hurt me on purpose. Just like Goshiki and Kei.  

“Share?” he asks me back, implying that he doesn’t know the meaning of the word “share”. If I didn’t know anything about the relationship between him and his teammates, I would think that he had never shared a piece of bread with anyone in his life. Maybe only with his father and that’s beyond sad.

“Yes, you eat half and I eat half. This way, we can order several different kinds and have a taste of everything. What do you think?” I calmly explain my plan.

“You don’t mind sharing with me?”

“Of course, I don’t!” I convince him before reading everything written on the menu. Just like Starbucks Japan that has tall, grande, and venti as their basic cup size, Excelsior has their own version, which is small, medium, and large. Judging from the creativity, Starbucks wins by default.

“Are you ready to place your order?” The skinny guy in front of us starts to speak as he fastens his black apron. The smile on his face seems to tell that he’s heard and enjoyed my conversation with Ushijima so far. There’s also a slight chance that he knows both of us, but as long as he doesn’t do crazy stuff, I won’t care that much.

“Um, sorry, but I don’t see any pizza?” It doesn’t take long for me to realize that I see no round shape full of pepperoni and mozzarella in the front display.

“Oh, these are the pizza.” The guy points at three delicious food that look like a folded bread with some filling inside. That surely doesn’t resemble a pizza and more like a wrap. The thing is, I’m craving for a pizza, not a wrap or anything else.

“They don’t look like pizza, but they taste good. Just try them,” Ushijima says to me, proving that he can read my mind or it’s generally easy for people to read me.

“Okay. I want one bacon and cheese pizza…” I trace my fingers along the warm display before my eyes jump into the one next to it, the one that has all the desserts. “Then one Mille crepe and one large almond caramel caffè latte.”

“One pizza with bacon and cheese. One Mille crepe. One large almond caramel caffè latte.” The cashier inputs everything in the cash register. “Anything else?”

“Oh, I’ll pay mine first. It’s separated,” I allow him to finish my order as I unzip my bag to grab my wallet, but Ushijima startles me by squeezing my arm. I’m bewildered by his action and I’m sure it’s shown on my face.

“Today I’ll pay for everything.” His voice is deeper than usual.

“O-okay. Thank you.” I don’t know the exact reason of my stutter, but I guess I’m just terrified if he’ll destroy this whole place when I keep refusing his everlasting generosity. Even the most patient person on the planet has their limit.

“I want one tuna sandwich with the drink, one corned beef panini, one orange and chocolate mousse cake, and one large iced caffè mocha.” Ushijima stays mute for a moment before he requests more, “Also, one buttercream pasta.”

I part my mouth in disbelief. “Are you for real? I understand that you can stay this lean because you exercise daily, but is your stomach bottomless? How can you eat so much? Didn’t you have breakfast before?”

“I have no idea why I can eat that much,” Ushijima replies so nonchalantly that I can only shake my head, wondering about the difference in our metabolism. It’s not a secret that I used to exercise like him, but when I tried to eat a bit more than usual, I’d gain weight instead of maintaining it. Seems like calorie deficit doesn’t work for me like it does for others. Do I have to mention that this is breakfast only? We still have lunch and dinner. I don’t know if I should be amazed or jealous of Ushijima.

After paying for four thousand five hundred yen, each of us carry a heavy tray full of our order and head to a table quite far from all the windows and main door. I don’t ask for this, but Ushijima appears to understand that I don’t want to be in a place where I’m too exposed to the public. We put our things on the table, then sit in front of each other. I keep my bag behind me, feeling that this café’s chair is simply okay. It’s not life-changing like what I sometimes see in a commercial break, but it’s definitely comfier than those made from woods.

“Lucky that the table fits for all the food,” I tease Ushijima as I grab my hot drink, blow the steam off a couple of times, and slurp it with caution. “Oh, wow. I eat a lot of almonds back home because my father likes them and has a large stock of them, but this is the first time I ever consume them in liquid form and it’s very good. I never knew that they would work this well with caramel.”

“I’ve never had any almond drink either.” Ushijima uses his left hand to lazily stir the straw of his drink, while his right moves his tuna sandwich out of the tray and closer to him. I know we’re going to share our food, but I think I’ll only ask for two bites of his breads and maybe three tablespoons of his pasta. I do eat a lot and more than most girls in my class, but this is just too much. The portion is beyond what my body can handle. I’m not even sure if I need an afternoon snack today.

“Here. Try it.” I hand my white cup to Ushijima and he accepts it without muttering a word. Just like what I did previously, he blows the beverage before taking a small sip of it. He seems to like it because he takes another sip, a big mouthful one this time.

“It’s good. You can try mine too,” he says as he drops my cup back on my tray and gives me his own drink.

“But you haven’t drunk it yet. Is it really okay?” I need to make sure before touching anything. I know some people find it ill-mannered when someone drinks or eats their stuff before they—as the owner—have it first. In my eyes, there’s nothing wrong with that and if Ushijima is one of them, I can understand.

“That’s fine,” he permits me without even considering once and I’m happy he does that. I take his glass, swirl the straw ever so slightly, and drink from it. My tongue senses something totally different from before, simply because mine is hot and his is very cold. Taste-wise, I’m more accustomed to his since it’s just mocha, compared to mine that’s made from almonds.

“Hmmm…” I lick my lips after having almost a quarter of his drink. “I actually don’t want to say this because I know you’re going to let me have everything, but if I have to choose which one I like more, I think I’m going to choose this one.”

“Then you can order one for yourself. Just get anything you want, you don’t have to worry about the price.”

“Hahaha, thank you, Ushijima-san, but maybe later.” I put his drink beside his sandwich with a smile. I wonder if I should tell him to save his money, but if I think more, he surely deserves to spend the money he gets from FIVB because he doesn’t earn them without breaking a sweat. His very own sweat. After all, people earn money to have a better life, so with two million yen, Ushijima can of course do something quite luxurious. Everything is okay, as long as he doesn’t do immoral things.

“Why did you bite the straw?”

I lift my brows, feeling mixed that I’ve wronged him in the most unforeseen way. “Ah, sorry, habit! I’ll ask for a new one!”

“No, I don’t mind if you do.” Ushijima strokes the tip of his almost-flattened straw, as if my saliva is the equivalent of pearls. “It’s just… cute.”

“…what?” Several long lines are carved on my forehead. “What’s cute about that? Weirdo.”

He takes a deep breath as he uses a knife provided to cut his sandwich in two. “Everything about you is cute. Why don’t you realize that?”

I grunt, signaling him to stop showering me with too many praises because I don’t want my head to get too big and explode. I move to hold my fork and use it to slice my crepe. I’ve heard about Mille crepe before, but I haven’t gotten the chance to try it. I thought it was going to be crunchy because this one store that sells crepes near my house has it that way, but this one is very soft. It resembles pancakes, but thinner. I try the first bite and immediately, I’m in a need to write a one-thousand-word of review, especially about the smooth and sugary pastry cream in between all the layers.

“Ushijima-san. Have you ever had this before?” I ask and once Ushijima shakes his head as a “no”, I slice a bigger bite of the crepe and bring my hand near his mouth. “Here, open your mouth.”

He obeys my words as he opens his mouth wide enough to devour everything in one time. With enthusiasm, I watch him silently munch. His eyes are riveted on my face and I do the same to his, but the difference is that my focus isn’t his beautiful olive eyes. I realize that I can’t keep my eyes off his round cheeks. They jiggle like they belong to a hamster, but steadier and obviously, cuter. Will it feel good if I touch them? But I’m not sure if I should ask for a permission now or later. Above everything, this may sound churlish, but it feels like I’m feeding a bear. A fluffy grizzly bear.

“Good?” Once he gulps down the crepe, I ask.

He nods. “I like it.”

“Want more?” I offer, prepping my heart and soul because of how adorable Ushijima can become. This thrill is unhealthy for someone like me who’s always weak for precious things like him, but I can’t help myself. I have to pet—I mean, feed this creature. That still sounds very wrong, doesn’t it?

“Okay,” he obediently agrees, nodding once again.

“Let’s try your cake, shall we?” I drag his mousse closer to my crepe. “This one looks very nice. It’s… orange and chocolate, right? Have you had it before?”

“I have. It’s my favorite, that’s why I ordered it,” he responds, eyeing the dark dessert like he can’t wait for me to repeat what I did before. He doesn’t need to utter his wish because God knows I’ll deliver with pleasure.

“Here.” I slice the mousse with the same fork I used for the crepe. “Open your mouth—”

“Whoa, seriously?! It’s really [F/N]-chan and Ushiwaka!”

Upon perceiving an airy voice that I haven’t heard since Interhigh last June, I freeze and almost drop the utensil I hold. With a heavy heart, I turn my head to the left and see four tall guys in casual clothes, standing only two meters away from my table. I might blink too fast because I really hope that the image in front of me is just an illusion. Maybe I left my sanity in the train station and forgot to bring it with me when I left. Maybe I’m still sleeping in my bed, never far from home. Maybe what I see aren’t the third years from Aoba Jousai’s male volleyball team. Maybe they aren’t Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa.

“Oh. It’s all four of you.” Ushijima’s comment pulls me back into the harsh reality. “What are you doing here?”

“Why can’t I be here when I have free time? What are you doing here?” Oikawa annoyingly emphasizes the word “you” as I put my fork on the mousse’s plate. Honestly, my brain is starting to sting. I might have a sudden nausea. I can’t even distinguish which one is the dream and which one is not, so I just want the time to pass faster than it should.

“We’re on a date.” Of course, Ushijima gives away the truth. It’s not like it’s his fault because I never told him to keep this as a secret when we coincidentally meet someone. Even if I did, I doubt he would oblige without asking me one hundred questions of whys.

“Date?! You’re kidding! Why with you?!” Oikawa squeaks and he’s lucky that my mind isn’t really here, because if it were, I would whack his face without feeling sorry before or afterward.

“Well, in all fairness, it’s weirder if among every volleyball player available in Miyagi, she doesn’t choose Ushijima, you know…” Hanamaki indifferently chimes in. His eyes are studying me and since we only know each other’s name, I feel quite awkward with this. Still, I don’t have the heart to harm his face like what I would gleefully do to Oikawa.

“Shut up, Makki!”

“Shut up, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi suddenly slaps his best friend’s nape, acting like a knight in shining armor for a meek lady in help, but it’s not long for him to glare sternly at me. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I thought you were with that glasses guy from your team.”

“Eh? No, I’m with no one… Please don’t think badly of me…” I explain, albeit feeling like I’m battling myself on the inside. The last time I met him in Sendai Gymnasium, I wasn’t snuggling Kei as much as usual because I wanted to conceal myself from everyone. He and most of Aoba Jousai’s players did know that I was there with all the hoodie and everything I wore, but according to the calculation I’m making in my mind, no one outside my school—and perhaps a few from Shiratorizawa—is supposed to know how close I am with Kei. Maybe I should stop exerting my brain and drink endorphins instead.

“Is that so? Okay,” Iwaizumi says before averting his eyes to Oikawa. “Come. Let’s order our drink and leave.”

“Ugh! Why does Ushiwaka always get all the best?!” Oikawa clenches his fists, like it’s a cute thing to do and not obnoxious at all. Fortunately for me, none of his gang cares that much about his irrelevant grumble as they all walk back to the counter. Oikawa gives me and Ushijima one last sour look before he stomps to follow the others.

“…oh my God…” I huff the pressure I’ve been holding for three minutes but feels like three decades.

“What’s the matter?” I didn’t realize that Ushijima has had his eyes back on me even when I’m still watching Oikawa speak to Iwaizumi, albeit being ignored. No wonder if he’s treated that way if his topic is still about my secret relationship with his rival. Iwaizumi is too chill to bother himself with something that’s not really his business, even more if it makes me this restless. He’s just very kind.

“Among everyone we could meet today, why would it be those four…? I mean, it could’ve been worse like maybe my friends from school or someone who works for Monthly Volleyball, but… oh my… After all, I’m not that ready…” I mumble to myself as I hold my cup, but not really doing anything it. “Oh God, this is like we’re really on a date…”

“What do you mean? So, we aren’t really on a date?”

“We are, but the bottom line is that we’re friends. We’re like brother and sister… We’re just hanging out like what I’ll do with Goshiki or my other friends, only that you used the word ‘date’ when you asked me out…”

“So, if Goshiki asked you to go out on a date, would you accept it?”

“Uh, no… Not him. It’s a bit creepy since he’s more like a brother to me than anyone else and also, he would never ask me that…”

“Then what about Tsukishima Kei?” Ushijima sounds mirthless, like I’m a lawbreaker he must interrogate, reprimand, and capture. “When Iwazumi mentioned about the glasses guy, he was talking about Tsukishima Kei, wasn’t he?”

“Of course. Kei is the only guy wearing glasses in my team,” I instantly answer without hiding anything. “There’s no way someone heartless like Kei will ask someone out on a date, but if someday he’ll do, then… maybe not.”

“Maybe not?”

“Maybe not.” I have nothing to say beside repeating my words.

“Then maybe yes.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? Why are you even bringing him again?” I ask him two questions as I play around with the fork and mousse down there. “Let me tell you something… Kei wanted to go with me to Little Blasters, but I refused. I thought today would be the only time we could meet each other because starting from tomorrow, I need to help my club. You’ll also be busy with FIVB and perhaps other stuff.”

“The only time?” Ushijima raises the tone of his voice before it falters back to normal. “No, I still want to meet you again. Maybe after I’m back from the intensive training and again after FIVB and again after that.”

“Hahaha, I mean the only time until you’re back from Paris. I’d love to hang out with you again whenever we have time. You’re such a nice person and you make me happy with every little thing you do,” I correct and commend him at the same time, eyes looking back up.

“Promise?”

My laughter changes into a warm smile. “Promise.”

“Thank you.” His face is still expressionless, but I’m sure he’s dancing inside. “Is it okay if I want to try the mousse now?”

“Of course! Let’s continue from where we left off!” I shout, almost disclosing my weird addiction to feeding him. “Oh, but let’s wait for those four people to leave. They’re still watch—I mean, that Oikawa is still watching us.”

“Okay,” he faintly replies with a small nod. I hope no one will blame me over thinking that I want to bring him home, bathe him, dress him up, and give him some bamboo before he goes to bed even when his species isn’t panda bear. He’s super adorable, I could get a nosebleed and die at any minute.

* * *

At eleven o’clock, Ushijima and I are done with our breakfast. When we leave Excelsior, he asks whether I want to take a ten-minute bus to Little Blasters and I happily say yes since it’ll save us half an hour or so. Almost the same as the train from my town, the bus isn’t packed with people. There are more adults than youngsters like us and I guess none of them really know who we are. Perhaps some have at least seen our face somewhere, but they don’t really care because their brain is fully occupied by a three-page shopping list they must check once they arrive at their destination.

Along the way, I talk to Ushijima mostly about what happened during last summer. I spent morning until afternoon practicing volleyball at my school’s gym and the rest was entirely dedicated to my homework. Sometimes Goshiki and his friends came to my house and we would help each other because even if he often looks like he’s possessed by the most ambitious demon, he’s actually very clever in class. I love how Ushijima attentively listens to me. Sometimes he nods, sometimes he mutters a stiffled “ah”, but he never tries to cut my words and I wholeheartedly respect him for that.

“Wow, to think that it’s been more than three years since the last time I went here,” I make a remark as we walk on a huge parking lot. Little Blasters’ two-story building is just minutes away from us and I’m so excited to find out what will welcome me inside.

“Yes. It’s been more than that for me,” Ushijima reminds me that the last time he was here was almost six years ago, which is double my time.

Without excessively speaking about unimportant trivia, we enter Little Blasters through an automatic door. Nothing’s really changed from the interior, beside it being cleaner than what’s recorded in my memory. There’s one lady in a grey suit standing behind an all-white reception desk that’s located on the right side of the long, yet empty hallway. I have never seen her face before, but the way she tucks her hair in a bun makes me feel like I’m on my way to apply for a prominent job as the general manager of Japan’s best financial institution.

“Ah, what an unexpected view. Good morning, welcome to Little Blasters. How can I help you today?” she greets us and I smile at her professional affability. If Ushijima were a normal person like I am, I think he would do the same. Sadly, he doesn’t seem to know how to properly use his mouth other than to talk, eat, or sometimes breathe.

“Good morning.” I walk closer to the desk, placing both of my hands on the marbled surface. “I heard that you guys are looking for a private coach. I’m interested in the position, so I want to put my resume.”

“Yes, we are. Is it only you or…?” She glances at Ushijima who stands directly behind me.

I raise my right hand, taking her attention back. “Only me.”

“Ah, okay,” she says with a grin on her face, but just before I reach for the zipper of my bag, she continues, “Actually, I think you can do the interview now because the owner is available, but can I make a phone call first? I believe he’s in his office.”

“Sure!” I gleefully permit her. Usually, I’ll get a call or an email for my interview schedule and then I have to come back here again. It can be three days later or next week or even two weeks of waiting. If I really am able to have my interview right now, then it’ll save me a lot of time and money. No one has to be there to accompany me as well. It’s a win-win situation, no matter how I look at it.

I thought she was going to use a landline telephone like what I always see in a movie or TV show, but that doesn’t happen. She takes her smartphone from somewhere behind the desk, taps a few things, then presses it against her right cheek, smiling at me and Ushijima when needed. I guess technology plays a big part in our society nowadays, but I have nothing to complain about. It’s easier this way. We no longer have to write a letter for someone who lives in another town and then wait for a month to get a reply. I want to applaud my great-grandparents for being that patient.

“Hello, Sakaguchi-san? [L/N] [F/N] is here. She wants to apply for the private coaching job. Yes, yes, that one. Is there anyone else with that name?” The lady smiles at me and I send a warmer one back. “I’m thinking that maybe you want to interview—oh? Hmm, I see. Yes, well… Yes, one of the parents just called us again half an hour ago, but I told him to wait until next week because we have no one available. Yes. Okay, I understand. Thank you, Sakaguchi-san.”

If I were a puppy, then my tail would rapidly wiggle side to side because of how excited I am, because I kind of get the idea of what I’m about to hear, but of course, it’s always better if I ask it myself. “So Sakaguhi-san is still around? What did he say?”

“He said that you don’t need to put your resume because… well, it’s you. He knows you. You do still need to do an interview, but he said that he’s going to phone call you and just do it as a formality. Don’t worry, you’re going to get accepted,” she informs me the amazing news. “Last week, one of our private coaches who had worked here for more than two years suddenly didn’t come to work without news. She couldn’t be contacted at all and she didn’t even pick her last payment. Sakaguchi-san tried to go to her apartment and she wasn’t there. We have this other coach, but he’s only available for two sessions on Saturdays and Sundays because he’s married with kids and has a full-time job.”

“I see. During summer break, I’m available every day, but I’m a manager in my school’s volleyball team, so I guess I can start coaching from four. Not earlier,” I explain my schedule. My team’s practice will start roughly at nine in the morning until six in the afternoon, but I’m one hundred percent sure that they’ll allow me to leave at three and straightaway ride a train to Sendai. It’s not like people really need me when there’s Yachi and Kiyoko. Also, the permission will be used to earn money and not play around.

“Are you going to Shiratorizawa?” the lady asks.

“No, Karasuno.”

“Karasuno? I’ve never heard about that school before.”

I chuckle. “Yes, it’s in Torono and it’s not a prestigious school like Shiratorizawa, but it’s only a train away from my house.”

“Ah, is that why?” she gives a brief comment before picking a thick purple notebook and opening the middle page, where we both can see a lot of writings on it. “We’re quite in a pinch because there’ll be a lot of new applications for a private class during a long break like this, that’s why we’re very lucky that you’re here. Sakaguchi-san did ask for your schedule. So… we have four elementary schoolers from the previous coach. Is that okay if you handle them? Most of them can have their classes on weekdays, which I assume is more efficient for you.”

“Sure. If I have to choose, I’d rather not go out of my house on Sunday because it’s my resting time,” I tell her as I read some beautiful names on the paper. Most of the kids have their class twice a week, unlike me who used to be here every single day. There’s one boy who only goes for once a week. Is that even enough? Maybe his parents aren’t too sure about him being a professional volleyball player or maybe they don’t have want to spend too much mone, who knows?

“Okay.” She averts her eyes from the notebook to me. “You’re available every day, but you prefer to work on Monday until Saturday. The time is from four until…?”

“Until closing time is fine. Ten, right?”

“No, not until ten.” Out of the blue, Ushijima joins the discussion. I thought he was still somewhere behind me, but it appears that he’s been standing close to my right for some time.

I frown at him. “What is it, Ushijima-san?”

“You’re not going to coach until that late. It’s dangerous,” he bluntly voices his opinion, but from his tone and the way he looks at me, it sounds like an order. A frightening one.

“I’m used to going home alone since I was little. I’ll use the bus and the train… and it’s not like there won’t be anyone around. Sendai isn’t a mountain full of wolves.”

“You’ll regret everything after something bad happens to you. I don’t want something bad to happen to you,” he adds and I don’t know why it makes my heart loses its normal rhythm. “If you really want to coach until that late, then I’ll bring you home. You can start after I’m back from Paris.”

“You know there’s no train available after eleven, don’t you? If you bring me home, you’ll only have five to ten minutes to catch the last train to Sendai. There’s a big chance of you missing it. How will you go home then? Will you run? No. Even you’ll be too tired to do that and it’s going to be very time-consuming. Will you call a taxi then?” I try to make him realize that his plan is even worse than mine. At least, according to me and how I see the plus and minus of everything.

“Yes, I’ll go by taxi.”

I growl out of frustration because this guy’s hobby is to act on a whim. “Do you really want to waste your money that much?”

“What are you talking about?” Ushijima narrows his eyes, piercing me thoroughly. “Nothing, not even money, is more important than your safety. You almost died once in the most unexpected way, so why can’t you understand my fear?”

In this very moment, I can hear a voice screaming inside of me. It tells me that I’m the single-minded one who can never realize that Ushijima never wishes for anything less than the best for me. It mocks my childishness. It forcefully opens my eyes and makes me acknowledge the fact of how lucky I am to have someone like him on my side. Even after texting and phone calling each other every day for two months, there are still many things that we haven’t learned about each other. Yet, he protects me like I’m someone he’s known even before we were born. I always wonder why he holds me dear to his heart.

“…you’re right, Ushijima-san. I’m sorry for being selfish,” I obey his request as I look at the lady who’s been waiting for us with an indescribable expression. “I’ll only coach from four until eight, so around two sessions because each is one and a half hours. Is that good enough?”

“It’s good,” she and Ushijima approve my decision simultaneously.

There’s not much left to do besides me giving my email address and home phone number, in case I can’t be contacted. The lady tells me that her name is Fukuda Itsuko and I don’t know how old she is because I don’t think it’s polite to ask for someone’s age when I just met them—unless if this is a group dating, where questions like that are necessary. I’ll give it that she looks very young, thus she must at least be twenty years old, but not more than thirty. After saying some thankyous and goodbyes, I leave the building with Ushijima who’s sauntering just a couple of meters behind me.

“You can work whenever you want, but as soon as I’m back from Paris, I’ll bring you home,” Ushijima initiates the continuation of our previous talk. “I’ll be done with my night practice at eight and since Shiratorizawa is nearby, you only need to wait for ten minutes or less. You must wait inside, okay? Don’t recklessly wait alone outside because this area is quite secluded from the main road.”

I sigh while gazing at the cloudy sky above us. “It’s not like I can refuse.”

“Please don’t feel like I’m forcing you. I’m doing this for you, at least you must know that.”

“I know, but why do you care so much about me?” I turn around, facing Ushijima who also stops moving his feet from going any further. “My parents don’t even care that much about me strolling around the town at midnight, even when they’ve experienced the horror of almost losing their only child. Yamagata-san was right when he said that you treat me like a princess.”

He remains soundless for a moment before asking, “Why is that weird?”

“No, it’s not weird. Thank you, Ushijima-san.” I beam as I tuck both hands inside my jeans’ pockets. “It’s still very early, so do you want to go somewhere? Is there any fun place around here? I don’t like going to a game center or karaoke and I’m sure you’re just the same. Our entire life is dedicated to volleyball. We have no other life. Anyway, the sky is a bit dark.”

He catches a glimpse of the view up there. “Do you want to go home?”

“Sure, I don’t mind. Your night practice will start at six, am I right? You can be at my house until four or four thirty. We can talk and watch movies. Let’s get a real pizza for our pre-dinner treat.”

“Real pizza?”

“Yes, the round pizza.” I form a circle in front of my chin with all my fingers. “The real one, unlike what Excelsior has. With the crust and mozzarella cheese, maybe mozarella cheese inside the crust. There’s a store near my house that sells cheap, but very good pizza. We should get some, okay? I’ve been wanting to eat them since weeks ago.”

Ushijima fervently stares at me for more than ten seconds before he finally gives a breathy question, “…why are you so cute?”

I furrow my eyebrows as I pull down my hands, clenching them tightly beside my hips. Although there’s roughly a two-meter distance between us, I can still hear him speak, no matter how muffled it is. I notice the difference in my behavior. The old me would shout and call him a creep, a stalker, or anything to my heart’s desire without considering his feeling—like whether my words held enough power to hurt him or not. Perhaps I unconsciously did it because I knew that he would never get angry. This time, I can’t be that ignorant. My brain doesn’t allow stupid things to take over my body that easily.

“Shut up…” After some time, I mumble, lowering my eyes to the dark asphalt below us. “Stop saying stuff like that. You’re mean.”

“How is that mean?”

“Nothing! Let’s head back home!” I exclaim, attempting to hide the heat on my cheeks by turning around and stomping out of this place without waiting for him. It’s unlike him to not take some long steps until he stands exactly right beside me. He asks a few questions about what he thinks is a confusing attitude of mine, but I can’t give a proper answer because my mind is busy handling an unfamiliar feeling that I can’t spell out on a piece of paper. This might be the first time I’m feeling this unsure to look straight into his eyes.

* * *

Although the train isn’t full until we need to stand up, there are surely more people than in the morning. I don’t manage to get my favorite spot, but it doesn’t matter as long as I can sit next to Ushijima and be sure that I’m not seen by those that might come and say hi to me. There are two young parents sitting diagonally from us with their handsome son between them. He has the same haircut as Goshiki, but his face seems to be more innocent because I can tell that he’s still below five. As an only child, I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to have a younger sibling. I’m sure at least once in their life, others would think the same.

“I want to have a son.”

I stare at Ushijima, looking lost at his sudden declaration. “That’s random, Ushijima-san. Were you saying that because of the cute kid?”

He nods.

“I was thinking about having a younger brother, but well… maybe because you’re two years older than me, so you think more about the future? That’s quite shocking coming from you who don’t seem to care about things like this.”

“I always want to have a son, then a daughter. Too bad that we can’t easily pick the gender,” he says, expanding his legs. “What about you?”

“Me? Um…” I scratch my hair, as if I’m really putting my entire knowledge and calculation on this. “If it’s me, then… a daughter… I guess?”

“A daughter? I thought you’d like a son more. Maybe you’re surrounded by too many boys, so that’s why you want a girl.”

“Maybe? A daughter just sounds nice. A daughter… and I’ll name her Mizu—ah, I’m sorry. Never mind.” I smile, although not knowing the purpose. I bite my lip as I look back to the front, to the happy family who are now laughing with each other and talking about things I can barely hear.

I never thought about having a kid. I mean, I won’t refuse the chance of falling in love with the right guy and getting married before I turn thirty. It’s just that I never really thought about anything beyond that, including where I’ll live, how the wallpaper of my bedroom will look like, and the gender of my dream child. But I didn’t know why Kei came to my mind and I just slipped on answering a daughter. I didn’t know why our conversation on that day and him somehow agreeing on Mizuki to be our daughter’s name and everything else also came to my mind. I just couldn’t help it. I need to blame someone but I don’t know who.

“Okay.” As always, Ushijima never forces me to speak when I don’t want to. “Do you want to sleep? You can use my shoulder as my pillow.”

I shake my head. “No, I’ve had enough sleep. Let’s just talk. Um, have you thought about naming your future son?”

“My future son…” Ushijima seems perplexed by my easy question. His surname is quite uncommon and sounds very old-fashioned. I’ve lived for almost sixteen years and so far, he’s always been my only Ushijima. Though I think similar to Tsukishima, Matsushima, Kojima, or Nakajima, many names are actually compatible with Ushijima. Simply put, anything with the suffix _-jima_ or _-shima_ should be classified as one type. The “With Us, Everything Will Be Good” type.

“Ren! I’ve told you so many times not to do that!” The screeching of the mother in front of me startles both me and Ushijima. We look at her and apparently her son—who’s named Ren—is taking out all the money from a black wallet that I believe belongs to her. Some pieces even fall to the ground and the father helps cleaning them up. I love how he laughs afterward, then patting his son’s head and trying to calm down his wife. They remind me of my parents, only that my mother wouldn’t just scream. She would scratch both of our face.

“…I’ve decided to name my future son Ushijima Ren.”

“Oi, that’s too abrupt!” I shout, softly punching Ushijima’s left arm with a chuckle. “You’re seriously weird! I don’t know what’s going on in your mind sometimes!”

“But isn’t Ren a beautiful name? What do you think?”

“Well, yes, it’s very beautiful. It means ‘lotus’, doesn’t it? Only celebrities or characters in movies will have ‘Ren’ as their name. Even I think Rin is more common than that. Not saying that you should change it to Rin because I definitely prefer Ren,” I give a thorough evaluation of the name. “What if it’s a girl then?”

“Girl…” Ushijima clasps his hands between his legs, leaning his head against the window behind us and starting to ponder. I scrutinize his face, solely because I need to be prepared for a strange name he’s most likely going to say in the next two minutes. Will it be something western like Anna? Will it be something that’s widely used like Sakura? Will it be something very peculiar and out of this world? I can never read this guy’s mind, so I can’t tell.

“Eh?!” The father from the previous family suddenly shrieks, once again taking Ushijima’s and my attention. “So I don’t have to pick Reina from her piano class today?! You should’ve told me before I made a promise with my friends!”

I gulp.

“…I’ve decided to name my future daughter Ushijima Reina.”

“Oi, stop!” I shout with another punch on Ushijima’s arm, begging him to put an end to this adorable strangeness. He can’t be serious of naming his future kids after some random strangers he met on a train when he was eighteen, can he? But then again, we’re talking about Ushijima Wakatoshi who doesn’t understand joke, let alone doing it to himself. I don’t know what else to do beside smiling and giggling because I can’t hide the fact that I’ll forever enjoy this side of him.

* * *

“I don’t know why the weather doesn’t seem nice. Do you think it’ll rain? Should we get an umbrella?” As soon as we leave the station, I share the unpleasant condition I feel with Ushijima. It’s not steaming hot to the point of me being drenched in sweat, but it’s very humid and it makes me hard to breathe normally like when I was here four hours ago. In other words, it’s like I’m suffering from oxygen deficiency, even when it’s practically impossible since I’m outdoor.

“Really? I don’t feel the difference,” Ushijima replies as he takes his phone from his pocket and scrolls through some things. “The weather forecast says that it’ll stay dry for the entire day. I don’t think we need an umbrella.”

“Hahaha, how accurate is that? But well, it’s fine. If it rains, we can just sprint. It’s very unlikely for it to happen, anyway,” I assent to his decision. I’m dead serious with my words. It’s only a couple of minutes under water. It won’t kill me and I’m sure I won’t get sick either. I’m stronger than that.

There was a space between us when we left my house this morning, but this time, it doesn’t happen anymore. I’d love to describe that our arms romantically touch each other and flowers bloom on the ground we step on, but the truth is that I’m only as tall as his shoulders. It’s my head that brushes against his arm and it’s not like I have any objection about it. I’ve mentioned it too many times that I’ll never choose short guys over anything else because of many obvious reasons. One example is that it’ll be his head that brush against my shoulder and not the other way around. I don’t perceive that as ideal.

Maybe this has something to do with meeting those people from Aoba Jousai, but I’m a bit more aware of my surroundings as I walk on the straight road that I must take to home. Even when Ushijima and I are in the middle of talking about what kind of pizza we’re going to order this afternoon, my eyes often wander around as I keep my head down. Ushijima doesn’t seem to catch my anxiety because he doesn’t ask about why I act like a culprit trying to run from a police officer. I surely can tell him myself, but I know he’ll then perform sweet things like hugging me or patting my head. I don’t need that to happen.

“Hmm?” Just after we discuss about many types of real mozzarellas like we have a real knowledge about it, I feel something cold landing on my forehead. I lift my head, staring at the sky and when I check sideways, Ushijima apparently does the same.

Before we even get the chance to say what we think is going on, drops of water mercilessly fall onto the Earth. The first thing I do is look around in panic, trying to find a shelter that can save us before this turns into a storm. From far, I see a huge bulletin board with a roof where people usually put their events, job vacancies, or all of those kinds of stuff. Quickly, I grab Ushijima’s wrist and lead the clueless guy there. I don’t know whether I should consider this to be good luck or bad luck because we’re wet, but then it’s fast for us to find a place that keeps us from getting wetter.

“Uh… We should’ve gotten an umbrella,” I grumble as I wipe the top of my hair and then some parts of my clothes. I’m not totally soaked, but a towel would be nice.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” I look at Ushijima, lifting an eyebrow. “Why? Because you were the one who told me that we wouldn’t need an umbrella? Don’t be silly. We both are on this. At least we’re safe now.”

Ushijima gives me his usual stoic face and I’m just so used to that. “Then… what about sprinting? You said we would sprint.”

“That’s a joke, Ushijima-san. I’m not going to dirty my house’s floor and then need to clean it. I’m too lazy to do any work today. I want to have fun.” I throw my head back to the front, watching the rain that gradually becomes heavier. Should I really thank the world for not adding wind to this? Because if it did, then there’s basically no purpose of staying here. I might as well walk under the pouring water while singing and dancing like that one musical video I watched on TV years ago. I do need a black coat and umbrella for the performance to be as magical.

“So we can only wait.”

I sigh, sweeping my damp fringes from covering my vision. “Yes, that’s our only option. Let’s hope it won’t take that long. If it won’t stop until five minutes, then let’s do the sprinting. You should help me mop my floor afterward.”

“I don’t mind.”

I chuckle at how fast I get the affirmation. “So… do you clean your own room, Ushijima-san?”

“I fix my own bed, but there are people who’ll come every morning besides Sunday to clean our dorm. Like sweeping, mopping, dusting, and doing our laundry.”

“Most guys can’t do household chores, can they? How can you survive living alone like that? Not like you’ll have a hard time getting a girlfriend or a wife, but what if they have a full-time job? You need to at least know how to wash dishes and cook rice,” I begin teasing him. “Oh, do you know the difference between washing dishes and washing rice?”

“…the difference?” Ushijima murmurs the two words and goes silent for some time before he simply answers, “No?”

“You don’t need soap for the latter. Hahaha.”

Instead of doing something more human, Ushijima only stares blankly at me. I give him another second, in case he’s still trying to absorb my sentence and analyze it—although I’m not sure why he has to. I wait for one more, in case he’s actually playing around with me and waiting for me to snap. I wait again, in case his brain is currently crafting a better comeback that’ll make me cackle until I cry louder than the rain. I wait and wait and I get nothing. I know it’s unwise for me to wait until next Monday.

“Argh! That was a joke! You should’ve laughed at it!” I yell, gripping my hands furiously. “You’re mean! I created that all by myself just when I spoke about it! Why didn’t you laugh?! I hate you! I thought I was creative! Now I feel like I’m a failure and that I don’t deserve anyone to be my friend!”

“…ah? I’m sorry…” He wears a mournful expression and I don’t know why I find amusement in this. Does it mean that I have the tendency to be sadistic? Maybe I mustn’t think too far ahead.

“No! Not forgiven!” I fold my arms like what I did in the train this morning, but with puffing my cheeks. “Ushijima-san is not fun! Other people would’ve laughed along, so I don’t understand why you aren’t like that! I’m mad!”

“I know you’re not really mad at me.”

I glance to my left, scowling while trying to suppress my laughter. “But I am!”

“No you aren’t. When I still lived with my mother, she used to call me weird all the time. Whenever she did it, she never looked this cute.” Out of nowhere, Ushijima tells a story that forces me to stop acting however I’m pleased. Maybe it’s because of his voice that becomes hollower, but I think it’s more because I’m very conscious of his mother’s dreadful personality.

“She did that to you? You mean, she was really angry at you when she called you weird?” I ask for a better explanation.

“Yes. Whenever she called me weird, she would scream and sometimes she would hit me too. I remember being told by my father that using the word ‘idiot’ to your children is mentally bad for them, especially if they’re still young, but she loved to use it whenever I didn’t understand what she wanted me to do.”

“What? What’s her problem?” My voice gets very pitchy and my eyeballs feel like they want to jump out of the sockets. “Your father was right! Calling your kid that way is one of the worst things parents can do! When I was younger, my mother fought me at least three times a day, but never once had she called me idiot or useless or anything like that! No matter how impatient she was at that time, your mother could’ve taught you kindly until you understood! And she hit you whenever she felt like it?! Can you please bring me to your house now?! I want to stab her, I swear to God! I’m so mad right now!”

“Why are you mad?”

“Because no one should hurt you! And I’m also sorry if my words have hurt you! I never meant to! I was just joking! I should stop doing it!”

Ushijima seems to ease up, shown my how his face is no longer masked with uncertainty. “No, I wasn’t hurt. Whenever she did that to me, I just felt like it was unnecessary. Sometimes I felt slightly tired, like I wanted her to stop, but I wasn’t hurt. When you said that I’m weird, it did remind me of her, but then you’d laugh and you’d stay by my side. It’s different than what my mother did to me. You never make an angry and stressful face like her.”

“I was just joking. I’ll never hate you, Ushijima-san. If I did hate you or think that you’re super weird, I wouldn’t go on a date with you today, right? I wouldn’t be with someone if I didn’t feel comfortable with him.”

Ushijima simply nods. He’s not someone who’ll say yes when he means no, so without the need to speak a syllable, I already believe in him. There’s not even a tiny part of my heart that doubts him.

I smile, hoping he’ll feel better if he needs to. “But I’m curious of what she did to you. Give me a good example, just like when you told me that she’s a manipulative liar.”

“One time when I was in elementary school, her old friends visited our house with their son who’s a bit older than me. She told us to play Playstation together, but I didn’t want to, so I asked him to play volleyball with me in my backyard. He was okay with that. He had fun, we had fun. When my mother found out about it, she shouted at me in front of everyone. She said that I’m not in the right mind because I’m too addicted to volleyball and nothing else. My grandparents were there and since they’re kinder, they stopped her.”

“Please. She’s the one who’s not in the right mind. She needs a beneficial hobby,” I mock the person who’s not here, but if she were here, I would still do the same. Even harsher if I could.

“It’s fine. She doesn’t matter that much.”

“Ah, she doesn’t matter that much? Why is that?” I playfully poke his arm. “Let me guess… Because for you, I matter the most?”

“Yes.”

I know and that’s why I asked in the first place. Although I’m not being all flustered like before, there’s a part of me that will forever be touched by his sincerity. Perhaps one day some people will come and say that I’ll eventually get bored of all the praises Ushijima gives me. It’s like I’ll eventually hate the world’s juiciest fried chicken if I have to consume it for every single day. It’s a realistic way of thinking, but I’m not sure if it’ll happen between me and him because he’s very cute. I’ve befriended Goshiki for more than three years and I’ve never wanted him to shut up. Because he’s also very cute.

“You’re the first person to ever say that to me… to say that I matter the most to them,” I reveal as I go back to watching the loud raindrops. “This is also my first time standing beneath a bulletin board, waiting for the rain to stop. Also, this happens during my first date ever. How hilarious.”

“It’s my first time too.”

I laugh, collecting my hair into one bundle and dropping it on the left side of my shoulder. “Yes, I know.”

“You’re also the first girl that I’m chatting.”

“Really?” My eyes meet his again. “You never chatted a girl before? I mean like maybe your classmates? Maybe you need to ask them for something school-related?”

“No.”

“Not even the class representative?”

Ushijima shakes his head and since his hair is sopping and sticking to his scalp, it doesn’t sway like usual. “Many girls asked me for my LINE ID, but I was advised by many people not to give it to just anyone. The females on my LINE are just some of my closest relatives, your mother, and you.”

“It’s sad to say this, but… you know, I chat Shiki-chan a lot.” I rub the side of my head since I can feel some water rolling down there. “I’ve done a lot of things with him. This is the first time I take a cover under a bulletin board because of a downpour, but this is not the first time I need to take a cover somewhere because of it. Do you get it? I experienced it probably twenty times with him and some of his friends. Well, if it’s alone, then it’s just with him.”

“Did you share food and drink with him?”

“Mhm. A lot of times.”

“Did you use the same straw and fork like what we did today?”

I stay still for a moment before I respond to his question, “…yes.”

Ushijima suddenly looks gloomy and I do know why. “I see. Did you feed him too?”

“Uh… Not a lot, but yes, I did. He always got angry because he’s not a fan of being treated like a kid, even when he tends to act like one—wait, hang on!” I interrupt myself from telling an unfunny story for the purpose of breaking the ice because Ushijima looks like he wants to weep. “Let’s not count everything that I’ve done with him! He’s like a brother to me! My father kissed my cheek when I was a baby, but he’s not my ‘first kiss’, right?! I can’t count my own family on this!”

“…so, besides your family and Goshiki, I’m your first?”

“Uh… You’re not, actually… I shared my food and drink with too many people, regardless boys or girls. I fed a lot of my friends too…”

“…but I want to create a lot of firsts with you. My first and your first together,” Ushijima confesses, making my heart flutter like a small butterfly trying to fly higher than it can. “Is that still possible? Is that too much to ask?”

“It’s very possible and we will, Ushijima-san. We will,” I promise him and he nods, perhaps permanently noting my words in his mind.

I inhale a long breath before I step forward to feel the rain with my right palm. I don’t count the minutes I’ve spent here, but I bet it’s already more than five. It doesn’t look like the rain will completely subside soon, but it’s a bit milder, compared to when it just started. If I run, it’ll take me two minutes to arrive home and no matter where I step on, I’ll still be drenched from head to toes. Ushijima will too. Drying our body is not a problem, but I can’t lend him any clothes. My father is at least a size smaller than Ushijima. Maybe I can try his loose pajamas? Or I’ll just wrap Ushijima in blankets. It’ll look very adorable.

“Hey, let’s run,” I invite Ushijima into this one short journey he might never have before. It won’t be our firsts because I’ve done this countless times ever since I was a kid, but it’ll at least add a page to our book of memories.

He doesn’t say whether he agrees or not, but the way he walks closer to me proves that he chooses the first option. Maybe it’s all in my head, but the rain gets even calmer than seconds ago. Like it’s being very kind to us and perhaps to more people out there, but of course, it’ll turn into something very generous if it just stops. Between me and Ushijima, I don’t know who wants to lead the run, so I wait for him to initiate the first move. I change to play with the rain using all of my left fingers because I don’t want to get wrinkly skin on my other one.

“Will you call me by my first name?”

I turn my head to the guy beside me, widening my eyes and parting my mouth. “What?”

“Will you call—”

“No! I mean, no, not that no, but no like—I mean why did you ask me that? You don’t have to repeat anything and not that it’s bad for you to ask me that, but why all of a sudden?” I gibber incoherently because I totally don’t expect this kind of question. I thought I misheard it at first, but the rain wasn’t that mischievous to muzzle anyone’s voice, including his that was very crystal clear. Among one thousand things he could ask me, why did he choose that? I’m even more surprised than all those times he called me cute combined. I just don’t know how to react.

“…ah, sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. It’s a selfish request, so you don’t have to do it. No hard feeling,” Ushijima soothes me from thinking that he might be humiliated because he doesn’t gets what he wishes for. “Are you ready to sprint? Tell me if your legs hurt, so we can stop and take a cover somewhere else. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Just before Ushijima takes his first step outside the safety of the roof, I pull the side of his shirt, staring deep into his handsome face. “It’s not like I don’t want to! I’m just trying to process this because I don’t expect you to suddenly ask that!”

“I told you, you don’t have to worry about—”

“I said it’s not like I don’t want to call you by your first name!” I shout as I lower my head, hiding myself from embarrassment and chewing my bottom lip like I want to rip it apart. “It’s… Waka… toshi… san… right?”

There’s nothing but silence, unless if I count the sound of the rain. I don’t know what expression Ushijima is making at the moment because the only thing I can see is the mushy ground beneath us. Why don’t I realize sooner that the soles of our shoes have become very dirty? As soon as we’re home, I’m going to clean them. Not only mine, but also his. I have to because I know he’ll do the same to me. I have to because I want to do this for him, because I want him to be happy.

“It’s without _-san_.” After what feels like a year, Ushijima finally speaks up—or corrects me and prolongs our conversation. It’s like I’m in a sauna because everything around me is steaming. If my mother were here, she would say that I’m just dramatizing, but I swear I’m not.

“…oh, I see…” If previously I only chomped on my bottom lip, now I do the same with the upper one. “Okay… then… Waka… toshi… senpai…?”

“No. Without any honorific.”

I reach for the back of my neck and scratch the surface. “Without honorific? But isn’t that impolite…? I’m younger than you… Even your underclassmen call you with your surname…”

“I don’t see that as a problem since it’s you, not someone else.”

I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. I don’t know what’s going on inside my brain. Besides my family and closest female friends, there are only two guys who I call by their first name. Kei and Reon. Reon is a special case because everybody calls him that way, therefore he asked me to do the same. Kei is my first best friend in high school and his name is very simple, unlike Tsutomu and that’s the reason why I call the latter with the first half of his surname. I always thought I was cool with all the guys, but evidently, no. Is it because he’s Ushijima Wakatoshi? There must be a reason why.

“Wakatoshi,” I blurt out after gathering enough courage. “Anyway, let’s go now. We don’t want the rain to get—”

“Look at my face.” The ace grasps my jaw with his left hand, pushing and demanding me to face him. “Call my name while you look at my face.”

I’ve never blushed this much before, so even if my head turns to where he stands, my eyes dart to anywhere but the front. “…Waka… toshi.”

“You’re not looking at my face.”

“I am,” I tell an obvious lie, but after some time, I manage to languidly stare up. “Wakato—”

He smiles.

He smiles at me and I never knew that my heart could thump this wildly. It’s like a marching band lives and plays in there.

I lift one finger, pointing at his face and attempting to notify him of his own expression, but I get no chance to voice anything as he leaps forward to embrace me in a hug. It’s extremely tight that it almost hurts because no matter how I look at it, I’m just a pathetic ant and he’s a titan. Since he’s very tall, he has to bend down his body because if not, then I’m the one who must stand on my toes. That won’t be convenient. Set that aside, I have no other choice but to rest my head on his shoulder, where I can smell his masculine scent that’s mixed with the freshness of the rain.  

It takes me seconds to realize what’s currently going on and the first overwhelming emotion I feel is that I want to cry. He smiled. I’ve known him for two months, I’ve met him for five times or more, and we’ve had some video calls in between. Every time I saw him, he never smiled, not even when his close friends made fun of something blatantly hilarious. He always seems off. He seems to disconnect with the others, seems to not understand his surroundings and the reasons why people do things he doesn’t do. Yet, he smiled at me and even until now, it felt like I’d been presented with the best gift anyone could ever hand me.

“…hey, you’re smiling,” I whisper, voice slightly trembling because I still can’t get over the rare sight. Somehow I make a vow to myself that it’ll always be recorded in my memory.

“Because I’m happy.”

“Happy…? Well, you’re silly.”

“Silly? Because I’m happy?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

“How come? I’m not sure of it myself.”

“…you’re so cute. I want to hug you more.”

“How? You’re already doing it at max… and look, the rain almost stops.” I inspect the speed of the raindrops and giggle. “Things always happen for a reason, huh?”

“For a reason?” He slowly loosens his hug, putting us back into our previous position.

“Yes. If you didn’t ask me to call you by your first name, then we wouldn’t have the conversation and we would just vainly drench ourselves. We waited and now it’s only drizzling slightly,” I explain, combing my messy hair before plunging it behind. “You know… I’ve held hands with many people besides Shiki-chan because I’m such a clingy person who likes to touch and be touched, but… I’ve never done it as I walk in the rain…”

“Is that so?”

“I wasn’t just telling you a story. I was implying that I want to… hold hands… as we walk back… home…” I shyly say as I give him my left hand. “Please don’t make me ask you again… I’m already so embarrassed…”

One more time, Wakatoshi smiles before he gently takes my hand. Together, we leave the trace of our memories behind in this place. I wonder how often I’ll look back to reminisce about all the good things that just happened. I wonder if he’ll do the same. More than anything, I wonder how many firsts we’re going to create from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found heroine’s [national anthem](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UDKb8g1ZHs)! I actually found it through this (way better) [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cC8NBJTc6aI). I’m not quite a fan of this type of voice because it has no vibrato and sounds very sharp, similar to YUI. But the song is very catchy and has great lyrics. XD
> 
> \- [The sticker Kei uses.](https://store.line.me/stickershop/product/1222139) (of course it’s made by a Japanese person)  
> \- I don’t remember the release year of animated stickers, but it feels very recently. I think it’s not in 2013 (the setting of this fic), but something like 2014-2015.
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next chapter will be published in 18 months. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> AND I’M SLEEPY


	42. Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I heard everything, by the way,” the old guy promptly gives his comment, still chewing the cheesy pizza. “Wakatoshi loves you so much. Do you realize that?”
> 
> “Yeah,” I casually reply, grabbing my phone from the dinning table and sitting across from him—which was also my place before I left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8212204/navigate) I found out that the summer training camp arc took 17 chapters and 5 months. :’D I really want to say thank you to everyone who’s still reading this fic after that long. It means a lot, seriously. The last time someone waited this patiently for me was when they wanted to borrow money. :’D
> 
> Anyway, I cut almost half of this chapter because I want to give some important scenes to Kei. I’m sorry, baby Waka.
> 
> IF YOU MISS KEI, I MISS HIM TOO. IT’S REALLY FUN WRITING ABOUT HIM. I wonder what will happen when he knows about everything… I do have a list of chapter titles ready to use for his breakdown… ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

Wakatoshi and I successfully arrive at my house without flooding the floor. Our shoes have gotten very wet, so we hastily take them off before I carry them to the laundry area in front of the bathroom. I need to let them drip in a place more appropriate than the entryway because I already have to change the rug into the new one before my mother comes back from work. The rain out there is milder, but it’s not totally gone, hence it results in our head and shoulders to still be soaking, although not as much as I anticipated it to be.

“Here, towel.” I walk back to the front door with two grey towels that I take from a shelf near the bathroom and hand one to Wakatoshi. “Normally I’ll take a shower, but I don’t want to leave you for too long. I’ll just change my clothes and I’ll look for your change as well. What’s your size?”

He starts drying his hair with both hands. “It’s XXL.”

“Yeah, figured,” I respond, not getting shocked because of his apparent figure. “My father’ size is L, but I’ll look for his loose pajama. Wait here. Don’t recklessly go anywhere and spatter the floor. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay. Be careful. Watch your step.”

I softly chuckle at his continual care for me. “I will, but well… there’s always a chance of me slipping on an unseen wet spot, falling head-first, hitting my skull against the stairs, and die in an instant.”

Wakatoshi looks a bit distressed. “Don’t joke about things like that. That’s not good.”

“Hahaha. I know. I was just teasing you. I won’t die that easily.” I coil the other towel around my neck. “Wait for me, okay?”

He doesn’t speak a word as I walk to my room on the second floor. I see Yue sleeping on my bed, but I don’t have time to play with him as I hurriedly switch to a simple white shirt and brown shorts, then carrying my dirty laundry with me. I stop by my parents’ bedroom and slide open their flashy four-door wardrobe, colored in metallic red that’ll make everyone think that this costed them a million yen, when it’s actually nowhere near that. I pick my father’s blue shirt, simply because it’s put on the topmost of the stack. Last, I grab my mother’s hair dryer and comb from her fancy dressing table.

“Wakatoshi,” I sing the guy’s first name as I hop downstairs with everything he needs to save himself from catching a cold. “Here. Change in the bathroom and put your dirty shirt in the laundry. I’ll clean our shoes.”

“Okay.” The same as before, he obeys me without uttering any objection. He takes my father’s shirt and enter the bathroom, shutting the door quite hard. I quickly drop my dirty clothes in the laundry basket, then dry my hair and wrap it in the towel, feeling a bit lightheaded from the weight and I hope nothing more. The last thing I do before minding the shoes is put the hair dryer and comb I’ve been holding on a long table near the entrance, where my parents usually keep their keys or wallet.

I read articles stating that it’s fine to use a washing machine for slip-ons, which is the kind of shoes Wakatoshi and I have. I’m not sure if I should believe this because I’ve never tried it nor have I ever thought about it. I’m too scared to ruin anything. What I choose to do next is go under a sink nearby and scrape a bit of the mud covering the surface of the shoes, from left to right and back. The road in front of my house has no sand or things like that, but I suppose rain always does this to us. Once I’m done, I’ll dry them with a fan in the living room.

“It fits. Thank you.” The bathroom’s door is opened as Wakatoshi walks out of it. I remember those pajamas always seem too big for my father who’s very lanky, but it almost looks tight for Wakatoshi. I wouldn’t be surprised if the actual size is XXL instead of L. I don’t know whether the maker messed it up or my father just bought the wrong size on purpose.

“That’s good. Put your clothes on top the washing machine. I’ll take care of them later,” I order him and he quietly complies.

“Will you wash my clothes?” he asks, left hand going up to pat his hair that’s a tad curly from all the erratic motions he’s made.

“Hm?” I look at him through the mirror in front of me. “You want me to wash them? I was thinking that you would bring them back to your dorm.”

“If you wash them, then there’ll be a reason for me to visit your house again next time.”

It takes me a couple of seconds to comprehend his intention and when I do, I groan out of embarrassment. “That won’t happen. I’ll just deliver your clothes with Japan Post or I’ll ask my parents to bring them to your dorm when they go to work tomorrow.”

“Why?” He walks closer to me and stands right next to the sink. I can’t help but notice that it only reaches up to his pelvis. I’m sure he’ll grow several centimeters more before he turns twenty-one, but then I think about Kei who’s still fifteen. I’m worried if Kei will be two meters and has the absolute ability to intimidate me even more than now. That doesn’t sound good.

“I’m not serious, of course. You can come anytime you want, no worries.” I turn off the tap and give the shoes in my hands some squeeze to remove all the unnecessary liquid. I’m doing it one by one because my hands aren’t big enough to handle my own shoes, let alone Wakatoshi’s. He’ll probably need two big luggage to bring to Paris. His jeans might need their own luggage, while the other one is for his tops and underwear.

“Where are you going to dry them?” Wakatoshi offers me his hands. I know what he means, so I place his shoes on his palms. If I were in his position, I would do the same.

“With the fan in the living room. There’s a socket there, so we can also use the hair dryer.” That’s the last thing I say before I walk to the said place with him, not forgetting to take the hair dryer and comb in with us.

I set everything as fast as possible while Wakatoshi can only wait. It’s not like I don’t want him to help, but it seems more efficient if I—the person who knows everything about this house—handle this alone. First, I lay our shoes on the table between the sofas and the wall-mounted TV. This might not look like the wisest option, but it’s easier to wipe a table than a floor. Next, I turn on the black stand fan near me to its highest speed and tilt the head down so the breeze will directly hit where it needs to. Finally, I plug the hair dryer into a socket located behind the long sofa where Wakatoshi played with Yue this morning.

“Come sit on the floor.” I beckon to Wakatoshi as I seat myself, crossing my legs to give the man a comfortable space to be down there. “I’ll do your hair first, then will you do mine after?”

He nods his head in affirmation as he folds one of his legs. I remove the towel covering his head and begin to feel the tip of his damp hair. I’ve had a lot male friends, but all of them are about the same age as me and besides Goshiki, I’m not too close to them to the point of us touching each other without feeling shy or whatnot. That said, I’ve never touched the hair of someone older than me like what I’m doing right now. I’ve never even blown a hair other than my own. I just wish that I don’t accidentally burn his scalp from a sudden clumsiness.

“I really like your hairstyle. It’s not too over-the-top. It looks good on you,” I praise him as I turn on the hair dryer to its lowest setting. The sound is quite loud, but not rowdy enough to mess with the conversation we’re having.

“I was born like this.”

I immediately laugh, directing the hair dryer to the back of his head as I use my left fingers to roughly comb it. “That’s arrogant. It’s like you’re saying that you can’t help to be handsome and tall. Well, actually that’s the truth. You were born awesome and you have all the rights to say things like this, but you know… I hope you get my point.”

“Hmm… not really, but I think my hair looks better than it should because of Semi’s father. He’s been cutting my hair since I started middle school because that’s when I met them. When he’s not busy, he’d cut most of my friends’ hair,” he tells me something that piques my interest—presumably because there’s Semi in it. All I knew was that his friends went to Semi’s salon, but I always thought that there were other stylists who handled them. Logically speaking, the owner of a big salon usually only wants to assist those who pay a higher price.

“Really? You guys are so close, I’m so jealous to see that kind of friendship. You’re very lucky, you must maintain this relationship until forever.” I smile, turning off the hair dryer because I don’t need it anymore. “I’ve never asked this before, but I wonder why no one ever mentioned Semi-san’s mother? It’s always his father and his father. Are they divorced or something?”

“No. Semi’s mother passed away when he was seven.”

“Oh?” My voice falters because I don’t expect this kind of answer and it does prick my heart.  “…um, why? Sickness?”

“That’s… I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.” For a moment, Wakatoshi looks at me over his shoulder. “Please don’t ask him about how she died. You can ask about his mother in general, but don’t ask more. Don’t force him to answer. Your best bet is to wait until he tells you himself.”

My imaginative mind starts to play so many wild scenarios. Only dumb people who won’t think about the worst after hearing such reply. She didn’t die because of a disease. If she did, then a blunt guy like Wakatoshi would just say yes. I don’t think it’s because of an accident like car crash because it’s considered common. Definitely it’s not because of an old age—that time she was probably still below forty. Did she maybe get murdered? No, I’m crazy. I should stop assuming because everything seems to do more harm than good. It hurts my brain. I also need to respect Semi and his family.

“I won’t,” I promise Wakatoshi as I think about jumping into a more light-hearted topic while still carefully combing his silken hair, now with a real comb and not my fingers. “Let’s talk about something else. Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes?”

“You said you saw me three years ago, right? Then why didn’t you immediately say hi to me? Had you done it that time, you could’ve saved us a lot of time and granted us a lot of memories.” I bring up one topic that for an unknown reason was never talked about within hours of our chats and phone calls.

Instead of replying in a whim, Wakatoshi turns around and stares into my eyes. “Do you really want to know about that? Won’t you be creeped out?”

“Huh? Why would I be creeped—wait, why did you ask me that? What are you planning to say?” I scrunch my nose, suddenly being very unsure whether I want to know or not because once I do, I can’t undo it. Anyone would feel the same if someone told them “won’t you be creeped out if I tell you a story about us?”, so I don’t feel out of the place by feeling this way.

“…maybe it’s better if I sit somewhere—”

“No!” Before Wakatoshi goes away, I stop him by gripping his shoulders tightly. “Stay! Why do you need to go?”

“But I’m scared if you’ll hit me…” he admits in such honesty that I don’t have the heart to do anything cruel to him, even if he’ll tell me the most nauseating story. He’s a person with dignity, so I’m not sure if he collects my pictures or does something bad with them. Whatever. If what happened back then really disgusts me, I’ll just sever our ties right at this point. The blame will all be on him.

I let go of his body with a sigh, letting him position himself to thoroughly face me. “Just… tell me everything. I’ll listen, okay? I won’t be mad.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“Okay. So… the first time I saw you was in October, during the first round of All-Japan. I was waiting for my team’s turn to play, so I waited at the main stadium. I thought perhaps I could see some new strong teams that I might need to beat,” Wakatoshi begins his reminiscence as I focus myself. “I didn’t know you existed, but people were screaming your name. I had to watch you and you were breathtaking. You were very little, but everyone could hear the sound of you smashing the ball. After you won the match, I couldn’t stop talking about you. My eyes were searching everywhere for you. When we passed each other in the hallway, I almost wanted to tap your back and say hi, but I held back. Your birthday is in December and mine is in August. We’re separated by two and a half years, not exactly two.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Hang on. Your story was very sweet at first, but I don’t know why you’re suddenly changing the subject. And how could you know about my birthday because pretty sure I haven’t told you that. You’re such a stalker.”

“Someone in my team mentioned it when we talked about you,” he tries to remove my skepticism and he does it right.  “But that’s it. That’s all the reason why I didn’t want to get close to you. That time, you were still twelve and I was fifteen. It just didn’t feel appropriate.”

“Didn’t feel appropriate? How come? I don’t understand. And why would I be creeped out? Can’t you explain more?” I can’t hide my confusion, so all I can do is ask him some questions that basically have the same meaning.

“Do you think it’s appropriate if a fifteen-year-old guy falls in love with a twelve-year-old girl?”

Do I think it’s appropriate if a fifteen-year-old guy falls in love with a twelve-year-old girl?

My stomach feels like it’s being filled with one thousand butterflies, but I muster up the courage to demand for a further explanation, “What are you talking about? Were you planning to fall in love with me?”

“Who knew?” He shrugs, acting like there’s no weight to his action or words, but I know that’s not true. He’s not someone who will carelessly say something meaningless, even if it’s just a simple pep talk about sports or homework. He’s barely able to understand people’s jokes, let alone doing it himself.

“Then… when did you plan to finally say hi to me?” I ask as I play with the teeth of the comb in my hands. Perhaps this is what I do when I’m very nervous while this specific object is around.

“When you’re in high school.” Wakatoshi heaves a short sigh—something that he barely does. “I was very naïve. I heard that you accepted the scholarship from Shiratorizawa and I thought fate would bring you to me.”

I chuckle forcibily since I’m not sure how to react accordingly. “Fate, huh? But fate apparently had a different plan—”

“It had a better plan,” he interrupts my words with his own opinion. “You know, I was worried. We live in the same prefecture, but after you had that accident, it felt like you were out of my reach. I didn’t know what to do. I asked Goshiki about you. I asked him to introduce me to you, but he said you don’t like it when boys do that.”

“Did you really ask him about me? But well… yeah, he told you the truth… I guess it’s a happy ending because in the end, we did meet each other. Maybe fate did want us to meet. I’m just thinking what if I weren’t a volleyball player? Would you still be around me? If my parents were pianists, then I would be a pianist.”

“If you were a pianist, I’d also be a pianist.”

I laugh at his spontaneous and childlike response, but my heart feels very warm. “Things don’t work as simple as that. I could be born in America and not Miyagi.”

“Then I’d be born in America too.”

“What if I were a basketball player from the smallest city in Europe?”

“I’d be a basketball player from the smallest city in Europe too.”

I shake my head to show my disapproval of his bizarre way of thinking as my laughter grows louder. “Now you’re really forcing the story. God can punish you.”

“Do you know about parallel universe?” Wakatoshi questions a theory that I’ve heard but never fully understood, so I just nod my head before he proceeds, “Some people believe that there are many versions of us out there. There’s another ‘you’ and ‘me’ in a whole different world than the one we’re living now. Maybe they don’t meet each other, but why does it matter? We have what lies in front of us and we should treasure that. Many things could’ve happened back then. Things can still happen in the future. I just want to keep you close to me because finally, you’re within my reach.”

“Wh—stop that! You’re such a smooth talker! Hold back a bit!” I shout as I stand up—one of the reasons is because I feel like I’m about to burst into rainbow sparkles from all the bliss he’s given me in such a short amount of time. I’m not used to being showered by lovely things because I’ve spent years around sarcastic people or those who can seem to be genuinely kind and appreciative.

“Where are you going?” he asks, eyes following me.

“We should switch places. You said you would do my hair.”

“Ah, yes. I will.” He rises from the floor and sits on the spot I had before. Once I situated myself nicely, he begins to delicately grip the hair behind my left ear, as if he’s terrified to hurt me.

“Your hair has gotten so long. The last time I saw you, it was only above your shoulder,” he makes me remember of what I had ten months ago as he turns on the hair dryer. I don’t give a reply because I want to enjoy the way he uses the relieving heat to straighten my hair. I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me this way. Perhaps it was when I cut my hair more than a year ago. This feels really soothing that I can fall asleep at any moment.

“Hey, Wakatoshi…” I call his name, but he doesn’t stop working. “I don’t know if this is just my feeling, but it seems like you’re very experienced in this. Is this your first time?”

“It’s my first time blowing a girl’s hair, but it’s not my first time in general. I’ve taken care of Semi’s hair a lot of times.”

“Eh? Semi-san? Seriously?” I’m surprised even when I should’ve anticipated this kind of request from a son of a salon owner who also has a great hairstyle. There are too many things that we haven’t learned about each other. I want to talk to him more and laugh about every little thing he does, like how he scolds Tendou for using those disturbing stickers.

“Yes. He used to ask Reon, but Reon couldn’t do it. Kawanishi is pretty good, but he always gives up halfway through. Like he’ll only do your left side and be too lazy to do the other one. If you force him, he’ll just run and hide somewhere for hours.” Wakatoshi's story tickles me by itself, but it feels more hilarious because of his flat tone. He doesn’t understand how funny he can get sometimes.

“You guys are so fun. I like being around you. I don’t mean to badmouth anyone, but my _senpai_ in the club aren’t as fun as you all. Some only talk about girls, some are too serious, some are just… I don’t know. They aren’t not that fun.” I squint when he yanks my hair a bit too hard, but I don’t whine because it doesn’t hurt that much. I just can’t wait to count how many strands have fallen all over the floor and sofa. Probably I can knit a sweater with them.

“We like having you around too,” Wakatoshi says, turning off the hair dryer, but still combing my hair. “Your hair falls a lot.”

“Yes, I just thought about it. It’s been like this for years. I’ve changed my shampoo so many times. I’ve tried to use natural ingredients on my scalp. Nothing works and no, I’m not depressed or anything like that. Maybe I should cut my hair short? I don’t know.”

“Maybe…” he mutters, sounding sad because relating to someone else is what kindhearted people do twenty-four seven. “What should we do after this? Watch movies?”

“We can. After my hair’s done, let’s go to my room and watch it on my laptop.”

“Okay,” he agrees before picking the hair dryer again.

* * *

The number one reason why I choose to move to my room is because of the air conditioner. Besides here, there’s one in my parents’ room, one in the guest room across from theirs, and literally none downstairs, not even a portable one. Even when it just rained, it doesn’t mean that the weather will stay cold until tomorrow morning. It’s also my mistake for not turning on the air conditioner when I changed my outfit because now Wakatoshi and I need to wait for some time before the change takes an effect.

I tell Wakatoshi to sit on the floor and give him a small white pillow to hug—he does cutely hugs it and I must restrain myself to not capture some pictures and send it to our group chat because I don’t want the others to riot over the fact that their favorite ace is spending time in a younger girl’s bedroom. Then I grab my laptop from my study desk and put it on a round wooden table that’s always kept in the middle of this room, but only used when people are coming over. I always prefer to be on my personal desk because resting on an office chair is more comforting than a rigid box spring.

“Yue is still sleeping…” Wakatoshi comments on the cat that lies on my bed, still the same as thirty minutes ago or even longer than that.

“Yes, he always does that. Anyway, let’s play a small game.” I poke Wakatoshi’s arm before I lean forward to open my laptop. “What’s my passwoord? It’s an easy one. Everyone can guess it.”

“Your password! It’s… your birthday?”

“Wrong!”

Wakatoshi frowns. “Then what is it? Your last name? No, that’ll be too easy. Is it… one, two, three, four—”

“No! Of course not! That’s even worse than using my last name! It’s ‘sunrise’!” I shout before whickering because I can’t handle his cuteness.

“…‘sunrise’? Why ‘sunrise’?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it. Also, sunrise seems to be a bit more positive than sunset,” I answer lightheartedly as I type down the password on my laptop and press enter to access my desktop. Maybe next time I should think at least three times before saying something because when I glance sideways, Wakatoshi appears to ponder about my reasoning. I ignore him for a moment as I open my browser, searching for the best movies of 2012 or 2013 that I haven’t seen.

“I don’t understand.” At last, he voices his final resolution.

“You don’t have to understand,” I stop him from going too far ahead. “What do you want to watch? Horror? Drama? Fantasy?”

“Are you okay with horror movies?” Wakatoshi makes sure of my mentality as he scoots closer to me.

“Kind of. If it’s too scary, then I’ll be scared…” I answer without trying to put on a front. I’m braver than most girls I know, but as a normal human being, I have my own limit. Sometimes I can be a meek teenager and cry when things I dislike happen.

“Then let’s watch something else. Choose a movie that’s comfortable for you. I don’t mind as long as the story is good,” he suggests, patting my head like I’m a little kid before going back to leaning against the bed.

I beam at the freedom he gives me and begin to read the description of each movie presented on the screen. I’m someone who cares about ratings because that can be a good base to judge a movie, but I always need at least three different ratings from three different websites since some mean people can manipulate things they loathe. I’ve watched most of the last year movies from Hollywood like _Life of Pi_ or _Wreck-It Ralph_ and there are some interesting new titles that won’t be released in months.

Just when I want to discuss about which movie Wakatoshi has seen, I hear a knock on my door.

“Hey.” Without waiting for my permission, my father opens the door. He and his wife do this all the time, so I’m not even angry. I must admit, I don’t expect him to be home at this hour since he usually goes back after dinner. I too notice the white bag he’s holding in his left hand.

“Tou-san? Why are you home already?” I stand up and walk to the towering male.

“I don’t have anything else to do. Here’s your bag. You left it in the entrance. Be careful.” He hands me my handbag and I happily accept my sloppiness with a stifled “thanks”. “Anyway… you… Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yes, why are you asking that?”

“…are you sure?” My father seems to be very bothered by something I can’t quite tell, but then he seems to realize what’s currently going on. “Wait, have you read the news?”

My heart feels like it’s being struck by a lighting because his sudden question sounds very alarming. “What news?”

He takes a deep breath and worsens the atmosphere in this room by doing so. “Go check your phone. Wakatoshi, check yours too.”

I frantically unzip my bag and take out my phone. There are some messages that I can’t quite depict the meaning of by only looking at the tiny notifications, so I unlock everything and head to my favorite app. My heartbeat gradually increases as I see more chats from more people than usual, even from those I thought would never say hi to me before I do to them. The two active groups that I have—my own team and Shiratorizawa’s team—seem to be very chaotic until there are hundreds of sentences I might need a long time to finish reading.

“I’m sorry.” Out of nowhere, Wakatoshi’s already behind me. He holds my left wrist, forcing me to stare right into his eyes. He looks very perturbed, even more than my father. From assembling all the hints, I can already draw a conclusion of what’s going on between us without looking any further.

But I need to.

“I… want to read…” I don’t mean to make him let go of me, but he does it anyway. Warily, I look at the bright screen of my phone, scrolling and tapping the chats from the newest ones to the oldest.

 _ Kuroo _  
_Hime-chan, so you’re that close to Ushiwaka? I was right after all 1:16 PM  
_

_ Bokuto _  
_Kuroo gave me the article about you and Ushiwaka 1:14 PM_  
_So have you been lying to us? =D 1:14 PM_  
_Lying is very bad, girl 1:14 PM_  
_Why did you do that? 1:14 PM_  
_Explain! 1:14 PM  
_

_ Yamaguchi _  
_Hey, I don’t know what to feel about this… 1:07 PM_  
_I’m very sorry, but what’s going on between you and Ushijima Wakatoshi? 1:07 PM  
_

_ Goshiki _  
_Read the news on the group chat! 1:06 PM_  
_You’re so careless! 1:07 PM  
_

_ Kageyama _  
_What’s with you and Ushijima-san? Why are you holding hands like that with him? 1:05 PM  
_

I move to my club’s group chat and there I find several links with my full name and Wakatoshi’s. I click on a random one and I see the big and bolded “ARE THEY DATING?” sentence on the header. I sigh, skimming through the article with pictures and videos of when we stood under the bulletin board just forty minutes ago or so. First thing first, it’s very fast for these people to write about us. Second, this seems very frightening that I might need a bodyguard coming with me tomorrow. These pictures are very well-taken, but as long as I can remember, I didn’t see anyone holding a camera when I was out. Did they maybe hide inside a car? Did I miss them?

“Tou-san, are they still near our house?” I ask my father while reading the group chat. So far, I can tell that everyone besides Yachi, Kiyoko, and Kei has written several things for me. Most are questions about my real relationship with Wakatoshi. They demand me to explain, even the third years who always seem to be very reserved about gossip or stuff like that.

“I’m not sure, but don’t worry and don’t cry. Everything will be fine. I’ll kick them if they disturb your peace,” my father warns me from breaking down, but I shake my head, non-verbally telling him that I won’t cry because of this. I really won’t, but I just need a long time to process about this. I haven’t read the things people say in Shiratorizawa’s group chat or Twitter. Maybe I shouldn’t because I’ll most likely get a permanent brain damage.

“I’m very sorry.” Once again, Ushijima tries to soothe me. This time, he even rubs my back, as if he has the power to overturn everything.

“That’s fine. It’s meant to happen,” I murmur with a smile as I lock my phone and walk back to sit down and mentally rest myself. Wakatoshi follows me right after. I take a glimpse at my father who’s still worried about me, but then he closes my door without saying anything else.

“Are you really okay?” Wakatoshi inquires as he stays closely beside me. He wraps his long arm around my back, maybe unconsiously.

“Why won’t I be okay? It’s not like we just read about an upcoming disaster or a close friend dying in a horrible accident. You don’t have to calm me like this. I don’t need it.” I try to release myself from his embrace, but my struggle doesn’t last long as I give in. “…I’m fine. I’m just… I didn’t anticipate this to happen very soon. I wanted to privately tell my friends and now the entire Japan knows about us. I wish I wore my sunglasses. I don’t blame you, but I wish I did. I don’t know… I just don’t want this. I’m sorry to drag you into this, yeah?”

Wakatoshi becomes silent, scrutinizing my face. Ten seconds haven’t passed when he forces my body to face him, as if I’m nothing more than a pliable object. I do seem feeble and that’s why I let him do what he wants, only that I lower my head, covering my face from his sight with my hair. I can’t feel my heart anymore. All I know is that I bite my bottom lip and he tries to take a good look at me by swiping my hair sideways and tucking them behind my shoulder if possible. He does everything with zero finesse that he might need to comb it again after this conversation ends. I wish I could care about small things like that because maybe I would become a bit better.

“You’ll get through this. Tomorrow you’ll meet your friends and you’ll tell them about us with a smile. The princess that everybody loves should always rise and shine, am I correct?” he enlivens me and I raise my head, showing him that I haven’t shed a tear—if that what he really assumes I’m doing. I turn away to gaze at my laptop, ready to continue with our day that’ll still go on and there’s nothing I can do to put a stop to it. I wish this unpleasant feeling will go away soon. It has to.

“Yes.” I curl my lips into a crooked smile, still unable to stretch out the corners like usual, but I try. “Thank you, Wakatoshi. You’re... the best.”

* * *

We spend our afternoon watching this comedy movie titled  _A Ghost of a Change_ and I’m the only one who’s constantly laughing because Wakatoshi is being a Wakatoshi. Sometimes I check on him and I find his expression changes, but very subtly that I need to do some calculation to really decipher the unspoken words buried under his soundlessness. When it’s around four, we order our pizza and leave my bedroom to eat them in the dining room. We turn on the TV and discuss about those weird and puzzling commercials that Japan is well-known for.

When we’re almost done with our pre-dinner snack, my father comes down after getting his nap in his room and joins us by having a slice of pizza for himself. He doesn’t speak that much with Wakatoshi, compared to what my mother would do if she was here. He only asks about the overall state of Shiratorizawa’s team and whether Wakatoshi will go to my mother’s university after he graduates. Wakatoshi says he’s still not sure and I already know about it since weeks ago. From the way my father’s eyelids flutter, I assume he’s still very exhausted. He needs to at least get twelve hours of sleep like his daughter.

“I have to be back now,” Wakatoshi reminds me of the time, which is just a few minutes before five. “How about my shirt?”

“Oh yeah.” I remember that he’s not currently wearing his own shirt, but since my father’s shirt doesn’t look that ugly, I think it won’t be a problem if he wants to go home wearing it. “Tou-san, can he borrow your shirt? His is still dirty because of the rain. I’m going to wash it later.”

My father stares at me for several seconds before averting his eyes to Wakatoshi. “Huh? That’s my shirt? I didn’t even realize, but yeah, that’s fine.”

“Thank you,” Wakatoshi tells my father as he steps out of the dining chair. The only thing he brings here is his phone and wallet that are kept safely inside his pockets, so I can’t really say one of the most popular sentences before people part ways, which is “make sure to check your belongings, don’t leave anything behind”. I give him the big plastic bag of Tokyo Banana that I’ve kept securely inside the refrigerator, then walk him to the living room to take our dry shoes before proceeding to the entryway. I lean against the long table with hands on hips, waiting for him to sit down on the floor and wear his shoes.

“Oh right, thank you for today,” I send my gratitude as soon as he stands up, olive-colored eyes capturing mine.

“You’re welcome, although I wish the time would stop. We only spent eight hours together. It’s not enough,” he genuinely wishes for it and I show him a smile. “When can we meet each other again? I’m going to Tokyo with an airplane. Will you be able to send me off in the airport? It’s in the morning.”

“I have to be at my school in the morning, so I’m not sure. I’ll try.”

“I see,” he faintly mutters before hugging me like what he did hours ago, only that it’s tighter, as if he doesn’t want to leave this place. Remembering how he mentioned that we didn’t spend enough time with each other, most likely he doesn’t want to leave. If he can, maybe he wants to stay here for a week. That’s very bad.

“Wakatoshi, see you next time,” I start our goodbye first. If I don’t, I’m afraid we can be in this position until the season changes to Winter.

“…I wish I could stay longer.”

“Yes, I know.” I chuckle, stroking his head with my right hand since I can’t raise my other one. “Hey, our best ace should practice. You can’t slack around. This August, Japan will depend its pride on you. We’re going to meet each other again after you’re back from Paris. You’ll bring me home every night from Little Blasters, won’t you?”

He lets out a burdening sigh, resting his face on my shoulder and making me feel so bad from basically doing nothing. “...I know, but can I stay for another five minutes?”

“Five minutes? No, you can’t. That five will turn into ten, fifteen, half an hour, and when will you go home? I know your night practice isn’t mandatory, but you always attend it. What’ll your team say if their captain isn’t there because of a girl?” With a great effort, I’m able to keep Wakatoshi away from gluing himself on me. Our eyes meet like always, but he looks like he just lost his will to live. This side of him is very adorable, but also troublesome.

“I want to bring you back with me. Come with me.”

“Hahaha. To the dorm that’s full of huge dudes? Where should I sleep? The chicken coop? You’re being strange now.” I head to the door and open the handle. “I’ll clean up for a bit and when I’m done, let’s have a phone call. I’ll stay with you until you arrive back at your dorm.”

“…okay,” he unwillingly agrees as he drags his feet to the only way out of this house. “You don’t have to go outside. Maybe there are still some reporters around.”

“That’s so creepy to think about, but that can be true. You must be careful too.” I hold the door with both hands, allowing him to walk through it. It’s not even two steps away when he turns around to hug me once more. He whispers some words that quiver my entire body, such as how he’s so happy because of me and that he’s missed me already. I don’t know who taught him to speak this way, but I won’t be surprised if no one did. Humans are created to feel a certain way toward someone else and he’s no different.

“See you,” he utters his last farewell with a smile that I’ve been wanting to see for one more time after our rainy momeny. I wave my hand and he does the same. I wait for him to reach the gate before I close the door and walk back to the dining room. I notice the sound of the TV isn’t as loud as befor. My father must’ve enjoyed his eavesdropping time.

“I heard everything, by the way,” the old guy promptly gives his comment, still chewing the cheesy pizza. “Wakatoshi loves you so much. Do you realize that?”

“Yeah,” I casually reply, grabbing my phone from the dinning table and sitting across from him—which was also my place before I left.

“Huh? Wait, huh? You know he has a feeling for you?”

“Hm? Yeah?” I lift both of my eyebrows, not feeling a bit weirded out by this question. Pretty sure the first time I felt this way was weeks ago, but then I became even more sure after many more things. Only someone as dense as Wakatoshi won’t realize when someone loves them. Unlike him, I’m clearly aware of my surroundings.

“And what about you? Do you feel the same way too?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Not sure? What do you mean? Tell me.”

“Why don’t you ask me about Little Blasters? I did well.”

“I know you would do well, so that can come later.” My father takes another bite of his pizza. “Now tell me.”

“Ugh, Tou-san, stop acting like you’re my friend. I’d rather have this kind of conversation with no one than with my own father,” I refuse to prolong our topic as I look on my phone. I haven’t replied to anyone since I read the news, so I might start with Goshiki, then I’ll just send a smiling emoji to the others. I don’t really want to explain in detail because it’ll lead to more questions.

“You’re crazy. I wonder what will Kei say about you being with Wakatoshi.”

“Huh? Why are you bringing him?” I glance at my father only for a second before going back to my phone. “Stop speaking as if I’m two-timing Kei because we’re not dating and I can befriend whoever I want.”

“Befriend? Honey, friends don’t act like you and Kei.”

“I treat him just like I treat my other friends, boys or girls.” I harshly stand up from the chair, almost slamming the table because of my father’s madness. “You’re just saying this because you like Kei and you want me to date him. You always tease us and that’s very annoying, even way more annoying than Kaa-san. Kei’s not someone who’ll be bothered by all the silly things the media can write about. He’s not going to be bothered by this. I’m also close to some other boys in our team and he’s never hated me for that. Stop believing things that don’t exist.”

“Hey—”

I grunt in discontent and leave the dining room, not giving my father a chance to retort because I don’t want to hear anything stupid. I wish he would just stop because not everything is about Kei. I’m not dating Kei. My life doesn’t revolve around him. I don’t have any promise to stay alone until we get married seven years later with four kids and two cats. I’m more worried about handling the uproar tomorrow morning than to care about what Kei will think about this. In short, that guy is just a small problem, compared to the rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kohi: You know, sometimes I really want to write dramatic sentences, but I can’t seem to do it. I suck. I’m not creative. I need an inspiration.  
>  A Good Friend: Watch Kingdom Hearts cinematic.  
>  Kohi: Oh.  
>  Kohi: OH YEAH.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Sora:** A scattered dream that’s like a far-off memory. A far-off memory that’s like a scattered dream. I want to line the pieces up—yours and mine.
> 
>  **Kairi:** Thinking of you, wherever you are. We pray for our sorrows to end, and hope that our hearts will blend. Now I will step forward to realize this wish. And who knows: Starting a new journey may not be so hard, or maybe it has already begun. There are many worlds, but they share the same sky—one sky, one destiny.
> 
> **Kohi has leveled up!**
> 
> **Kohi:** Some people believe that there are many versions of us out there. There’s another ‘you’ and ‘me’ in a whole different world than the one we’re living now. Maybe they don’t meet each other, but why does it matter? We have what lies in front of us and we should treasure that. Many things could’ve happened back then. Things can still happen in the future. I just want to keep you close to me because finally, you’re within my reach.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Mission accomplished. Kohi is happy now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> ~~Btw if you play the Jap version of KH, do you know that Suga’s VA voices Sora and Kei’s VA voices Roxas. Yeah. ~~~~~~


	43. Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a brief pause before he draws his hand back and tonelessly replies, “If anything, I’m happy for you.”
> 
> “Happy?” I make sure that I accurately perceive his words.
> 
> At last, our eyes meet over his shoulder and he gives me a surly smirk. “I mean… your Wakatoshi is one of the top aces in this country. He’s not just some random guy you found on the street. I don’t praise people often, but the two of you look very good together. After all, the strongest female ace should be with the strongest male ace. Congratulations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I didn’t reply to any comment from the previous chapter because I was ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> This was actually finished around 4 days ago but I was too lazy to proofread. :')
> 
> I wanna say thank you to Anna for reminding me about Tokyo Banana. The heroine should’ve given the snacks to Waka, but I forgot to write that. I only added a sentence, so you don’t have to reread anything.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

Throughout my short trip to Karasuno, I keep thinking that I almost bump into one of my clubmates, even when I know that we aren’t the only who need to practice during summer break. Even those amateur painters and historical bookworms need to do their own thing without a single rest. It’s still some time before nine and I’m sure a few of us will show up five or ten minutes later than the planned schedule, but I can’t stop myself from being very cautious of my surrounding, just in case Tanaka or Nishinoya will tap my back and ask me a million question because half of them might not have an answer.

I too wonder how I could sleep with ease last night. After I went to my room, I had an hour call with Wakatoshi as I lie uncovered on my bed. Then I opened my laptop and spent a long time watching some amusing videos on Youtube—some were the obscure things cats do and I had seen most of them. I’m not sure of what happened afterward, but in a split second, I already finished taking a shower, slept, and woke up the next day from the obnoxious sound of my phone’s alarm. Am I maybe too shocked by this entire situation until I can’t think straight like usual? That could be it, since I can’t create a more rational explanation than this. My brain surely is beyond damaged.

My heart beats faster when I arrive at the hallway in front of the second gym. Compared to the area around the gate, there’s not a single soul surrounding me. I even need to make a small stop to take some long deep breaths as I clench both of my hands beside my thighs. I let my ears absorb the vague sound of shoes squeaking against the floor, the ball slamming the ground, and the yelling of some manly voices. I let my eyes catch the glimpse of a few people who are visible through the open door, but the only thing that I can clearly see is a part of their back.

For sure, there are people there. There are people who will definitely interrogate me for the entire day if possible. There are people that I must face, no matter how good I try to hide myself under a rock. A literal rock.

“What’s the matter?”

I almost leap like a kangaroo, but I quickly turn around to gawk at a blond man with a pair of sleepy eyes. “U-Ukai-san! You startled me!”

“Huh? Why? Why are you just standing here? Why are you acting like you’re seeing a ghost?”

“No, no, no, sorry. I was just contemplating my personal problem,” I absurdly explain my action, while he frowns, perhaps thinking that “this girl has gone insane”, but is too afraid to articulate it out loud. Without waiting for me, he walks by, entering the door and shouting some sentences I can’t quite hear.

This time, I decide to set aside my irrelevant fear and march forward. I don’t even think twice to enter the gym with a smile and cheerful “good morning” like what I’ve done hundreds of time before. A second after, I freeze and realize that the world is never genuinely kind to me. If it grants me one wonderful thing, it’ll also give a cursed side effect to it. Like I’ll win fifty million yen in lottery, but then my house will also get burned down by a thief and I’ll get stabbed in the stomach the next day. All the money will be used to fix everything.

Now everyone has stopped playing and gathering themselves on the sideline near where I stand. I don’t know if this is one hundred percent a bad timing because there’s still a chance of Ukai telling them to focus on the most important thing that is volleyball. That’s only if he’s not at all interested on hearing what’s going on behind the scene—a love story between me and the best ace in Tohoku, the person we most likely will have to beat this October if we can defeat Aoba Jousai. He’s never a strict coach like my mother or those eternally angry people I’ve encountered, so anything can happen.

“She’s here!” Tanaka yells and that’s when I scan the entire gym in fear. Everyone is present besides Ennoshita and Azumane, but they’ll come at any minute. I want Kiyoko and Yachi to be nearby, but I see them on the other side of the gym, near a volleyball cart that I think is half-empty.

“Girl, what happened yesterday? Explain to us!” Nishinoya adds as he walks toward me with Tanaka, making me step backward and hitting my back against the wall behind. Should I run and leave the building? Probably no. That’ll be too cowardly for someone like me.

“Are you dating Ushiwaka?” It’s Hinata’s turn to ask, but he doesn’t intimidate me. It doesn’t have anything to do with his small body. It’s just the fact that he doesn’t try to pin me like what his troublesome upperclassmen do.

“Yes, are you dating Ushiwaka? Since when? You two seem to be very close!” Tanaka goes on and on.

“How did you meet each other?” Nishinoya continues.

“Why are you hiding this from us? Why aren’t you saying anything on the group chat? For how long were you planning to keep this amazing secret?!”

“Come on, don’t be shy! Tell us everything!”

“Argh, stop! Stop asking me so many things at the same time! How am I going to explain?!” I shriek, but it doesn’t stop everyone from glaring at me. “I met him around two months ago at a wedding after-party. His father is apparently my father’s old teammate. That’s all.”

“That’s all?! Then did you two start contacting each other right after that?! What happened after?! Explain more!” I don’t even know who asks what because it seems like everybody simultaneously opens their mouth. Even Ukai and Sawamura don’t look like they mind too much with the uproar. Is this story way more interesting than anything else on the newspaper today? Why do humans have to be so nosy sometimes?

“Yes, we chatted each other. We’re family friends and no more. Now stop asking me things about him.”

“You know you can’t just expect us to not ask you anything when we know that your boy is that Ushijima Wakatoshi, don’t you?” Nishinoya sounds calmer than a second ago and perhaps it’s because he tells me such a realistic question.

I groan, biting my lip from the uneasiness I feel. “Whatever, Noya-san. It’s not like I know a lot about him. We rarely meet each other.”

“Oh really?” Tanaka cheekily grins and he has something on his face that for some reason is terrorizing me internally. “Please. Hugging each other and holding hands ever so tightly during rain don’t support your statement of ‘not knowing a lot about him’. What have you two done with each other? Maybe some ‘that’ or ‘this’?”

“Okay, Tanaka. Stop. There’s a thing called privacy,” Sugawara scolds Tanaka from going any further. At first, the bald guy wants to continue, but he gives up after Nishinoya pulls him away from me with a laughter, as if he hasn’t made my heart stop beating normally.

“Okay, enough. I need to tell you guys about some new plans I’m having.” Ukai folds his arms in front of his chest, making the rest avert their eyes to him.

I let out a sigh of relief as I drop my bag down, keeping it safely on the floor among some other bags. I’ll thank Sugawara when I have the time because he’s saved me from peeing my pants. After retying my shoe laces, I walk to my fellow managers who appear to wait for me. As I move my legs onward, I gaze sideways to all the boys. Right now, they look very concentrated on listening to their coach. I hope they’ll stay this way until the end of the day, although I doubt for it to come true. I bet once they have the chance to cage me, they’ll do it.

“Hey, you’re good?” Yachi begins the conversation between the three of us and I nod my head as reply.

“Um, but are you really not with Ushijima Wakatoshi?” Kiyoko asks the same thing that I’ve just publicly answered. Just how many times should I repeat myself until they understand that it will never change? Should I wear a t-shirt with “Ushiwaka and I are not dating” printed on it? Should I make a Twitter account and go through all the troubles to set the record straight?

“No, Senpai. I swear I’m not. We’re just friends. I have to say that he’s quite a touchy person. He likes to hug me and stuff, so yeah… everything on that article happened.” With extra patience, I explain again.

“Then why didn’t you tell us about this since the beginning?”

“Because I knew this would happen. You guys would be so crazy about us. I mean… you two are very nice, but I just…” I think about the best way to justify myself, but I give up and choose the most appropriate sentence available, “I’m sorry…”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, but… uh, it’s hard to say this. I don’t mean to blame you or what, but I feel really bad for Tsukishima…”

I frown upon hearing that name mentioned by Kiyoko. “Why? Because you still assume that we’re together? Clearly, we’re not.”

“It’s easy for you to say that. Before you arrived, Tanaka and Nishinoya were teasing him a lot. They said things like ‘you should work harder’ and ‘someone better stole your girl’. If the others didn’t stop them, then I don’t know what would’ve happened. He looked hurt. Even I almost wanted to stop them from bothering him. It was very painful to see,” Kiyoko tells with a sorrowful voice and face. I don’t know if I feel bad because of the way she looks or because such thing has happened to Kei.

“Yes. I think he’s still hurt.” Yachi furrows her eyebrows in despair. “He’s still playing volleyball like usual, but I wonder if he’s really alright inside…”

“Huh? What are you two talking about?” I blink my eyes several times out of bewilderment. “Why would he look hurt? I already told you before, we’re not even dating. Now you two are becoming crazy like the others.”

“But won’t you be hurt if you find him secretly hanging out with another girl behind your back?” Kiyoko asks once again.

“No, why?” My answer comes faster than a bullet train.

As if they share the same mind, Kiyoko and Yachi look at each other for quite a long time. I honestly don’t understand what’s going on. It’s like the more I stay here, the more I get confused of things that might not be related to my number one problem, which is to make everyone stop thinking that I’m dating Wakatoshi. So what if Kei is with another girl? Most likely I’ll feel a bit lonely because I can no longer go home with him, but he was never even there. Before he came to my life, I always went home alone and I was fine. I survived. He’d be fine as well because he said the same thing to me recently.

“All I can say is make sure you talk to him. I’m not sure of it myself, so maybe you’ll understand more when you personally ask him,” Kiyoko advises me and I just sigh because she doesn’t need to tell me that. Of course I’ll still talk to Kei and play with him like two days ago.

* * *

I haven’t had any opening to talk to Kei because he’s been constantly in game. He only takes several small breaks here and there to drink or wipe his face before going back, while I sometimes stay quite far from him, folding some clean towels or just watching everyone plays while making some useful notes for Ukai. It’s not until one o’clock when everyone is told to stop and take an hour full of rest, maybe getting a lunch or nap. Kei walks to the sideline alone and I notice him keeping his stiff left hand elevated. Some of his fingers must need a mending, so I dash to him, together with Kiyoko and Yachi who are more than ready to distribute the bottles and towels to everyone.

“Kei?” I tap Kei’s back and he tilts his head to me. I smile when I see that he’s just the same old Tsukishima Kei who wears his cool black glasses. There’s nothing off with the way his golden eyes meet mine, therefore I really want to grab Kiyoko and Yachi, and tell them that they should stop being too dramatic over nothing. There’s nothing to worry about.

“Yachi-san, where’s the tape?” Kei suddenly inquires Yachi who’s farther than where I stand—since the distance between me and him is only less than thirty centimeters. It’s not even a step away.

“Tape?” Yachi searches the floor around us and snatches the rolled object once she finds it. “Here.”

"Yachi-san, can you—"

“I’ll do it!” I interrupt Kei, but he acts as if I’m not here by giving his index and middle finger to Yachi. He doesn’t even look at me anymore because his entire focus is dedicated to Yachi.

“Yachi-san, can you help me?” Kei continues where he’s left off. From the look on Yachi’s face, I know that she’s incredibly perplexed and maybe also terrified by the heating situation, but then she grasps Kei’s fingers when he calls her name again.

I’m dumbfounded. Some questions begin to intermittently creep into my head. First thing first, why doesn’t Kei ask me? He always asks me before everyone else. Even when I have other things to do, he’ll drag and force me to take care of him. If he really thinks that I’m unavailable, he’ll do it by himself instead. He rarely asks someone to help him. No. He never asks someone else, not even Yamaguchi. We both know that I’m the only one for him, so why does he come to Yachi among everyone else? I wonder why not me when I’m standing closer to him? Right now, I’m the closest to him.

“[F/N]-chan, please help me with the drink.”

Because of Kiyoko’s small request, I leave Kei and Yachi alone with a heavy heart, heavier than the rain from yesterday. It’s not like Yachi will steal Kei away from me, but I keep glancing at them as I hand whatever the others need. Their height difference is apparent, thus nothing is covering Kei’s expression from me to see. He doesn’t look at anything else, but his fingers that are carefully banded by Yachi. Everything happens too fast that they’re done with their own thing before I’m done with mine. Yachi joins Kiyoko, while Kei just stands there, perhaps waiting for another manager to assist him. At least that’s what I think and that’s where I need to go.

“Kei. Here.” I slightly run to the tall guy with his bottle and towel in each of my hands.

“Thanks.” He takes them and swiftly uses the towel to pat the sweat from his long neck. His eyes are still not on me. He did it only when I called him the first time and there’s a high probability of it being unconsciously. I don’t know why this hurts. I don’t know why I’m a bit mad. I don’t know why I feel sad, as if the world is getting more unfair toward me.

“Hey, Kei… are we good?” I cautiously ask, ignoring the loudness of those who discuss about what they should get for lunch. I don’t care if they want to order some pizza online or buy ten kinds of _onigiri_. There’s something even more important than food right now and that’s my relationship with Kei.

“Mhm,” he gives me an ambiguous hum and nothing more. It sounds very meaningless somehow.

“Really? Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi told me that Tanaka-san and Noya-san teased you a lot before I came. That must be very annoying. Like always, don’t let them bother you too much. No, I don’t even need to tell you this because you won’t care about what they say, right?”

There’s no answer, but maybe it’s because he begins chugging his drink.

“Kei… Maybe this is just my feeling, but it seems like you’re ignoring me. I thought Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi were just exaggerating, but now I think they’re telling the truth.” I still don’t want to let this matter slip away that easily. “Hey, you’re not lying—”

“I need to go somewhere.” Crudely, Kei doesn’t allow me to finish my question. I don’t have the nerve to stop him from walking away, putting down his bottle and towel at the last minute before exiting the building. Where will he go? He always informs me because he doesn’t want me to blindly search for him, considering we always spend each break together. He never says the word somewhere and just leave like this.

Then, Kiyoko was right. Something bad is going on with Kei. I want to laugh at myself from five minutes ago for being too conceited.

“You’re not busy, are you? I have a question!” I haven’t had the time to comprehend my current quarrel with my best friend when Hinata pulls me, demanding me to listen to him.

“What?” I uninterestedly reply, rubbing the back of my neck and keeping my eyes close to the door, hoping that Kei will walk back with his trademark grin and then have some normal conversation with me. I feel stupid for doing thisn, but I guess I can’t stop my own heart from wishing whatever it wants.

“What does Ushiwaka eat daily?”

“Hah?” I squint at the shorter guy as I notice everyone else is looking at us. “What kind of question is that?”

“He’s a real athlete! He must eat differently than normal people like us! Does he eat six times a day? Does he consume a lot of protein like eggs and milk? Does he drink any supplements?”

“I don’t know, but for sure he eats rice and soy sauce like all of us,” I sourly answer, really showing Hinata that I’ll never be in the mood to talk about this subject.

“What kind of rice? Brown rice? I heard it’s very good for mass building.”

“Normal white rice, just like all of us,” I put so much stress on my sentence.

“Really? Then what about his training schedule? He must train a lot.”

I roll my eyes. “Leave me alone, will you? Do you want me to punch you until you’re unable to walk?”

Hinata gulps and immediately leaves me alone to join the others. It’s a wise choice for him to give up because I’m really angry at everything, including myself.

* * *

Thirty minutes almost pass and Kei hasn’t come back from wherever he is now. I thought Yamaguchi would try to find him because they’re very inseparable, but he’s here with everyone else, eating some _onigiri_ and breads Sawamura bought for us from Ukai’s store and the minimarket near the train station. I sit on the floor beside Kiyoko and Yachi as I munch my ham bread. They’re considerate enough to discuss about things that are more important than Wakatoshi, like our summer homework that hasn’t been touched or the team’s banner that we need to wash at least two days before the Spring High preliminaries.

Sometimes my eyes linger on the door, waiting for someone who I hope will be here soon, but then I stand up and look at the two managers. “I’m going to buy more juice. Do you want some?”

“No, mine is still a lot.” Kiyoko shakes her head and Yachi copies right after. I only give them a dim smile before leaving the gym. I inspect my surrounding as I head to the vending machine that’s located just a few meters away from here. Maybe Kei is nearby, enjoying his personal space because the others can and may tease him even if the whole world tries to stop them. I won’t bother him if he needs a time, but I just want to know if he’s alright. If we’re alright, to be more exact.

It’s not the first time for my wish to not come true because the one I find is none other than Kageyama. He gets himself a box of milk like always. The funny thing is I don’t even realize that he’s not inside the gym. My mind must’ve gone to places too far from my own goodness.

“Kage, did you see Kei?” I ask before choosing a lemon-flavored bottle of soda from the machine. I need something very fresh and light. I don’t think melon milk or coffee fits in that category.

“No.” Using a tiny white straw, Kageyama pierces through the box he holds with one hand. “Hey, can I be very honest? I don’t think I can talk to you if it’s not now.”

I bow to get my drink, opening the lid as I look to my right. “Sure.”

“I’m disappointed at you because you’re such a hypocrite.”

“Huh?” I suddenly lose all my appetite, even when I’m not that full. Even my throat doesn’t feel dry anymore, like I don’t even know why I’m buying myself a drink.

I mean why did someone like Kageyama accuse me without any basis whatsoever?

“Just a few days ago, you gave a speech about how you would never cheat. You acted so mature and I believed you. I always considered you as a sister figure that I’ve never had. I thought you would never choose a wrong path, not matter what happened. I thought you were different than other people.” Kageyama squeezes his drink, gradually displaying his burning rage toward me. “I don’t like Tsukishima. He’s one of the worst people I’ve ever met. He has a trashy mouth. He’s lazy, yet he dares to be very arrogant sometimes. He fights you all the time. He makes you cry. I never like seeing him with you, but that doesn’t mean you can cheat on him.”

My mouth widens before I defend myself, “I’m not cheating on him because I’m not dating him! I already told you so many that we’re not dating, but you never wanted to understand! We’re just friends! You’re just so dense, so it’s your own fault and problem if you consider us to be dating!”

“What you’re doing with Tsukishima isn’t what ‘friends’ do,” Kageyama tells me the exact same thing my father uttered in our dining room last night. “So you’re a type of person who can hug and hold hands with those who aren’t your partner, just like what you did with Ushijima-san yesterday? And how come it’s my fault? You complain about how Tsukishima is always blaming someone else, but you’re doing it yourself. I don’t know what’s wrong with you. I don’t even know if this is my fault, your fault, or our fault. I just thought you had more dignity than this.”

I’m ready to counter his words, but then I close my mouth. Maybe I must bite my tongue until it bleeds too.

I’ve known Kageyama for years, ever since he was as small as me until he’s taller than most Japanese people and becomes one of the coolest boys we have in Karasuno. He was there before and after I had my accident. He visited me at the hospital and talked to me for hours, not caring about coming alone and riding the train home later than usual. We never had an extremely close friendship because we rarely met and he barely mentioned things other than volleyball. We’re nowhere near me and Goshiki. We’ll never be me and Goshiki. Still, it really hurts to know that it only takes a second for him to change his opinion of me. If he talks more than this, it won’t be surprising if l’ll cry harder than when Kei shouted at me that night.

“…there’s nothing between me and Wakatoshi. There’s also nothing between me and Kei. I have a lot of close male friends. Remember back then I told you that I have a friend who’s attending Shiratorizawa? He’s my best friend since middle school. I’ve done many things with him. We’ve held hands and hugged each other. I’m just… I’m sorry if the way I act toward some people is too much and many of you misunderstand me. I’m not blaming someone else. It’s entirely my fault.” That’s all I can say while looking remorseful, eyes dropping to the ground. I don’t know if Kageyama can accept my apology, but I do mean my words.

“Your way doesn’t seem right in my eyes, but you can do whatever you want. At the end of the day, everyone is just the same,” Kageyama murmurs and I avert my eyes back to him. He shows me one unfathomable look. Distress, anger, and regret are all merged into one. Who would’ve thought that it could sting my heart even more? I want to say something to fix this. I need to say something.

“Kage… Again, I’m sorry, but why are you always saying that ‘everyone’ is the same? Who’s this ‘everyone’?” My voice comes out like a beg, wishing that I don’t say a word wrongly.

“There’s nothing. You don’t have to know,” he refuses to give me the truth as he bites his straw, eyes darting sideways. I want him to look me in the eye, but I’m not sure how.

“You don’t hate me, do you?” I ask again, quieter this time.

“I don’t,” he assures me before turning around, maybe not realizing that I’m still not content with the overall situation. “By the way, you said that you’d chat Asuka last night, but you didn’t do it. Try to keep your promise.”

“I didn’t break any promise! I just didn’t have time yesterday!” I exclaim. I seriously didn’t remember that I was planning to chat that girl. So many things happened that the only thing I could do to my phone was ignore all those questions about my private life with Wakatoshi. I haven’t even checked on my phone for the entire day, even when I’m bringing it everywhere with me.

“You didn’t have time? You could spend hours with Ushijima-san, but you couldn’t spend sixty seconds to type a ‘hi’ to the setter who dedicated herself to you for two years?”

“Yes, I’ll do it now! Forgive me!” I snarl, taking out my phone from my pocket. Before I even begin to do anything with it, Kageyama nonchalantly walks away, leaving me like a dumb girl who wants to prove that I’m the most righteous person on earth to someone who doesn’t even care. I want to show him that I wholeheartedly intend to contact his beloved girl, but he seems to be very upset because all the things I’ve done so far. Maybe it’s better if I leave him be for as long as needed.

When I go back to my phone, the first thing that catch my attention isn’t the loud Shiratorizawa group chat, but a few missed calls from an unknown number from only an hour ago. I hastily open my LINE and find a message from Sakaguchi, that owner of Little Blasters. He wrote that since I couldn't be contacted, he called my house and my mother picked up. She gave him my ID because it’s more convenient to leave a message here than via a voicemail or something equivalent to that. He told me to call him back on his number and I happily comply. I’m a step closer to getting this dream job.

“Hello.” It’s not even five seconds when a raspy voice greets me. This person was already there in Little Blasters since before I joined in, but I was so young back then, so I never talked much to him. I don’t even know his real age or whether he’s married or not.

“Hi, this is [L/N]. Sorry, I’m currently helping my club in school, so I didn’t look at my phone at all,” I try to speak as clear as I can even when the conversation I had with Kageyama is still echoing in the back of my mind.

“That’s fine, don’t worry,” he says while sniggering. “I’m so happy that you’re applying here because we rarely get a young coach. Fukuda told me about your schedule. I’ve sorted it out from Monday to Friday only, two classes per day from four until eight, just like you requested. Can you start working next Monday?”

“Next Monday? Sure!” I impetuously accept. I thought I was going to start in two weeks or way later, but sooner is always better because I’m more than ready to teach those cute kids and earn some real money from my first real job.

“I’m going to send the full schedule on your e-mail, okay? For the hourly wage, it’s going to be six thousand yen, so you’re going to get nine thousand yen per session, eighteen thousand per day.”

I blank out. Six thousand yen? I know I’m not being scammed, so I hope I don’t mishear that. Generally, part-time workers in Miyagi will get about one thousand yen per hour. It can only be more if they work for night shifts or if their boss is very generous—the latter is quite the rare case. These kinds of jobs are often mundane or taxing, like being a waiter in restaurants that are always busy since the opening until closing time. Me on the other hand? I’ll just enter a gym, play some volleyball with elementary students, and I get six times more than anyone else. After feeling like the world is holding a grudge against me, will it be appropriate if I call myself very lucky and awesome right now?

“Are you still there?”

“Y-yes, thank you! Sorry, I didn’t think that I’d get that much! I’m going to check the schedule as soon as I’m home this afternoon!” I blabber after a few seconds of being in my own fantasy. I list the things I can get if I’ll earn more than three hundred thousand yen by the end of August. A new phone? But mine is still good and I’m planning to change it only when it’s beyond unusable—like the screen has been destroyed. Last February they announced Playstation 4, so I might want to get that as soon as there’s a game I want to play. Having a lot of money sure is nice.

“Hahaha, you’re welcome.”

I almost gasp when I hear the sound of a can falling in the vending machine, so I look to my right. There I see Kei buying cola, even when he rarely drinks soda and prefer something fresher like fruit juice. I thank Sakaguchi one last time as I end the call before he does. I’d like to believe that it’s destined for me to be in this place at this time because Kei is supposed to be here as well. Imagine if Kageyama weren’t here and our conversation never took place. If he hadn’t reminded me of Asuka, then I wouldn’t have opened my phone and talked to Sakaguchi. I would’ve been inside of the gym and missed this small chance alone with the person I long for the most.

“Kei?” I tuck my phone back inside my pocket, Kei’s back still facing away from me. “Um, that was Sakaguchi-san, the owner of Little Blasters. I’m going to start my part-time job next Monday at four until around eight, so I have to leave the practice two hours earlier. I’ll do two sessions a day. One session is one and a half—”

“Why are you telling me this?” After what feels like eternity, Kei turns around with a straight face, but his eyes are seeing some other objects behind me. He doesn’t look irritated by my words, but because of that, I get very skeptical. The usual him always looks like he’s about to burst into laughter after he speaks so harshly to me because he merely jokes around. Unlike the one stands in front of me, the usual him always expects some sort of angry reaction from me and once he gets it, he’ll laugh even harder until his stomach hurts.

“…why can’t I?” My voice is akin to a whisper as I feel something sharp and painful tingling my chest. “Kei, I don’t—”

“Go tell the guy you went out with yesterday,” he cuts me off for the second time today. He then plans to leave by stepping forward, but I offhandedly grasp his left hand, almost losing the grip on my drink in the process.

“Kei, what’s the matter?” I strengthen my fingers and I can feel his twitch as a response of us coming in contact with each other. “Hey… are you perhaps mad that I didn’t go with you? I’m sorry if you are, but I can explain why. Please listen to me. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you all the things that I can’t tell anyone, but Wakatoshi and I are just friends. You trust me, don’t you? Among everyone, you’re the one who should trust me one hundred percent.”

There’s a brief pause before he draws his hand back and tonelessly replies, “If anything, I’m happy for you.”

“Happy?” I make sure that I accurately perceive his words.

At last, our eyes meet over his shoulder and he gives me a surly smirk. “I mean… your Wakatoshi is one of the top aces in this country. He’s not just some random guy you found on the street. I don’t praise people often, but the two of you look very good together. After all, the strongest female ace should be with the strongest male ace. Congratulations.”

I don’t get what he’s trying to tell me.

It’s obvious that he’s angry, but I don’t exactly know why because he never wants to open his heart to me. No matter what I say, I doubt he’ll open his heart to me. He’s never done that and he won’t do it now just because I ask him too. Before I can think of anything else, he clicks his tongue and continues moving his feet. It’s not all on his because this time, I don’t try to stop him by grabbing his shirt or begging him to stay. I can only remain in place, thinking that perhaps just like what I did to Kageyama, leaving Kei be is the best thing I can do to us. Maybe he’ll feel better in an hour or so.

* * *

We finish our practice at six when the sky outside has turned darkish orange with a bit of purple that makes it somewhat more enchanting than usual. I haven’t been able to talk normally to Kageyama, besides telling him that I already sent a message to Asuka some hours ago and I’ll check my phone again when I’m on my way home. He only gave me a nod and that’s it. Kei is the same. The last thing I told him was the question he didn’t quite answer. Both of them seem like they don’t want to be near me because I’m the most sinful person in Miyagi today.

As soon as I’m done with cleaning the gym and some parts of the manager clubroom, I grab my school bag and head to the boys’ room. I have a strong feeling that Kei will leave earlier and I’m right. I ask almost everyone I meet and they say that he has left with Yamaguchi even before some of them could say anything to them. I don’t expect him to still treat me this way, so I rush to the gate while balancing myself every step of the way because I don’t want to dramatically fall. I keep seeing no one until I’m outside of the school, where there are two shadows of tall guys walking next to each other.

“Hey, wait!” I scream at the top of my lungs, making them stop and turning around. To be very precise, Yamaguchi does that first, then Kei seems to contemplate hard for a year before he follows.

“Ah…” Yamaguchi opens his mouth, but he falls silent after glancing at Kei.

I glare at Kei as I try to catch my breath. “Kei, why did you leave without me? Mean!”

The same as before, Kei needs a long time to give me one ill reply, “Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. Starting from today, go home alone.”

“What?” I frown because I can’t take this rude guy as nothing but a joke. “You’re not serious, are you? Kei, you’re crazy! I’m sorry if I’ve made a mistake, but yesterday you promised to go home with me, didn’t you?”

“I lied when I said that,” Kei ignorantly states and once he sees the shift in my expression, he painfully stretches the corners of his mouth. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like the miserable one? Are people not allowed to lie to you when you can lie to them whenever you want? Who made the rule? Your parents? Ah, of course. The prerogative of being rich and famous, right?”

I unconsciously lower my head as Kei chuckles all by himself because Yamaguchi clearly doesn’t react much. At least now I’m one hundred percent sure that Kei is mostly angry because I lied to him, but then I also know that a simple apology won’t melt his heart. He’s far from those main male leads in TV dramas who’ll smile once a girl does something cute and clumsy in front of them. I don’t feel good with every single thing Kei has said and is planning to say. There’s a pang in my chest. I won’t describe it as a hurtful one, but more like a confusion. I’m confused on what I should do to fix this. What word will be the best to say?

After sweeping aside the last bit of uncertainty I have, I bite my bottom lip and softly voice the only genuine plea I can think of, “…but I want to go home with you.”

“Aww, how adorable. Did you also say that to Ushiwaka?” Kei’s response makes me raise my head and direct my eyes to a face that’s shrouded in nothing but mockery. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve degraded you. I’m sure you said the same thing to many more boys, not only Ushiwaka. Twelve? Thirteen? There must be some rich older guys there. Well, you should feel grateful that you’re very well-known because that’s the only thing you can offer. I mean let’s be realistic… you’re not even that pretty and petite compared to other girls in our school.”

"Kei—"

“And I bet you’re also lying when you told me about your girlfriends from middle school. I bet they were actually very nice to you, but you wanted the boys including me to pity you because you’re used to being pampered like a royal princess. Ah, it could also be true that your friend hated you because you were so desperate and clingy to anyone as long as it’s a guy. They must be incredibly disgusted by your behavior. Everyone would be disgusted. No wonder you—”

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi interrupts Kei from speaking any further. I inwardly thank him for that, but my brain isn’t able to process everything that’s going on around here. It can, but not fully. No matter how little it is, Kei’s senseless words seem to take a toll on me.

“What? Why are you defending a cheap girl like her? Are you interested in becoming one of her collection? That’s disgusting. You can do better than this piece of used good,” Kei points at my face while laughing like I’m nowhere near precious in his eyes. I’m amazed by the fact that he can do this without feeling awful. If I were him, I wouldn’t be able to do the same to him because he’s very dear to me. Maybe we just don’t run on the same pace and road.

“Tsukki, enough…” Once more, Yamaguchi begs.

“Right. Whatever. Not like I care. I’m going home,” Kei tells his childhood friend and immediately turns around to stroll the empty street. He removes his headphones from coiling his long neck and wears them, taking his phone from his pocket and choosing a—most likely—loud music. He never did this, especially not when Yamaguchi or I was still around.

“He didn’t mean the things he said, okay?” After Kei gets quite far ahead from us, Yamaguchi holds both of my arms, probably wanting me to face him, but I keep my eyes down on the ground. “He didn’t mean it, I promise you. He’s just angry, like what happened during the training camp. Tsukki would never think that you’re cheap or not pretty. You know that yourself, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” I faintly nod my head. I’ve experienced the same thing recently, so I’m not hurting as much as before. Though it’ll be a great lie if I say that I’m not hurting at all. I just want Kei to be here with me, but the more we spend time with each other, the more I realize that he never wishes for the same thing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t see the two of you fighting each other all the time because of a silly misunderstanding that can be fixed by talking. Let me tell you something about Tsukki and please listen. Look at me and listen.” Yamaguchi releases his grip and lets out a long exhausting sigh as I obey his request by lifting my head. “There are many things you can do to him. You can kick or punch him. You can shout at him or call him anything you want. I’m not saying that it’s okay for you to do that, but you can do whatever you want. Just… don’t you ever lie to him. It’s better if you spit on his face than lie to him. For him, a liar is probably on the same level as a murderer.”

I part my lips and close them for several times before I can ask a question, “Who lied to him?”

“His only brother.” I’m shocked when Yamaguchi unconcernedly reveals the secret. He used to hide things because he wanted to respect Kei’s privacy. I never purposely tried to pester him because what he did was the right thing to do. Who could’ve predicted that at this point, doing so has turned into the wrong thing to do?

“Akiteru?” I ask again and get a nod. “Really? Can you tell me the complete story? It’s fine, I won’t let this accidentally slip when I talk to Kei… whenever that will be.”

Yamaguchi looks around, as if Kei will out of nowhere be nearby. “It was… nothing extravagant like you might expect, but Tsukki was just a kid back then. He was never ready to get hurt by the person he trusted the most. Long story short, Akiteru-kun was the ace in his middle school. I have no doubt that he’s the reason why Tsukki started playing volleyball. Akiteru-kun then enrolled to Karasuno because during that time, Karasuno was as strong as Shiratorizawa. There were a lot of stronger players than him.”

“Was that when Little Giant was around?” I blurt out and when Yamaguchi looks perplexed by my little knowledge, I explain more, “Um, Tanaka-san told me that his older sister went to Karasuno when Little Giant and someone tall named ‘Tsukishima’ were also there in the same volleyball team. He asked me about whether Tsukishima’s brother went to Karasuno, but I didn’t know anything. Kei never really talks about his family to me.”

“She’s right. Akiteru-kun is a year older than Little Giant, so for two years, they must be in the same team,” Yamaguchi clarifies Tanaka’s sister story. “I don’t know where to start, but Akiteru-kun wasn’t that good. He thought he was one of the best during middle school, but since there were a lot of remarkable players like Little Giant, he’s easily overpowered. Right now, Azumane-san is the strongest spiker we have, even better than Tanaka-san who’s better than Ennoshita-san, but when he’s against a player like Ushiwaka, he’s basically nothing, right? Not matter how tall he was, Akiteru-kun couldn’t even make it as a regular.”

“That’s… That’s sad, but it’s not like he could help himself…” I try to be as sympathetic as I can, but that time, the truth had been shown to Akiteru. Maybe he should’ve practiced harder and sooner. Maybe he wasn’t born with innate volleyball skills like Kageyama. Some people can’t never win against lucks and talents. Life is never fair to begin with. Even I had to experience my accident and forget about my dream.

Yamaguchi narrows his eyes, as if to indicate his disapproval of my cold response. “Tsukki was always proud of Akiteru-kun. He always talked to me about his ace brother who would appear on the national television one day. He might be too young to understand what he wanted to become, but now when I look back, I’m sure he always wanted to become an admirable player like his brother, but well, everything was ruined because for three years, Akiteru-kun lied to Tsukki about being the ace of Karasuno.”

“Eh?” I’m clearly amazed because I’m not expecting the story to go that way.

“Yeah… He always said no when Tsukki wanted to watch his match because he’d be nervous. When Akiteru-kun was in third grade, Tsukki invited me to watch his last match before he graduated. Tsukki wanted it to be a surprise, but then we saw Akiteru-kun on the bleacher with other members.” Yamaguchi clumsily strokes his nape. “We immediately went home afterward and Tsukki was dead silent. He never spoke about it to me, but that time I knew he was deeply hurt. He must’ve realized that the reason Akiteru-kun did that was because he didn’t want to shatter his younger brother’s dream and his perfect brother figure, but… well… Tsukki felt betrayed.”

“Okay, that’s dramatic. That’s as dramatic as those stories about a poor baby and a rich baby get switched at birth,” I sharply comment once Yamaguchi is done with his story telling. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t relate to his problem. He acts like the he’s the most miserable person on earth. Like his wife cheats on him and the next day his boss fires him after praising him so much. That’s stupid. He’s stupid. He’s not smart at all. He only gets that huge body, but his brain is still a fetus.”

“Hey, that’s selfish to say because not everyone can be as tough as you. It might not be that big for many people, but Tsukki mind isn’t as steady as you think,” Yamaguchi gently scolds me. “For years, you’re the first person who could be this close to him. Maybe he even learned to trust someone again, but then you made this huge mistake. Imagine if you have someone you love in your life and then one day you wake up to see them being very intimate with another person? Won’t you be devastated?”

“Love? What? Kei doesn’t—”

“Imagine what if?” Yamaguchi emphasizes his last word.

“That… Then, I… I will…” I mumble as I have a hard time admitting this. “But it’s not like we’re dating!”

“Do you like Ushiwaka?”

“What?” I lift an eyebrow at Yamaguchi’s abrupt question and change of subject. “Um, no. I’m not… No, I just see him as a cool big brother.”

“Then… does Ushiwaka like you?”

“That…”

“He likes you, doesn’t he? Everybody was talking about that before you came to school this morning when Tsukki was also around. Some said that Ushiwaka always gives off strenuous and professional vibe of not caring about anything other than volleyball, but then we saw that video where he hugged you first. It was very romantic. He must like you so much.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

“But no matter what has happened between you and other people, I can tell that Tsukki loves you more than anyone else. He might have a hard time showing it, but he really really loves you. He loves you too much that he got angry when he found out that there’s someone else and he couldn’t sleep when you two had a fight. Isn’t that obvious?”

I nervously chuckle. “Stop it already. What’s wrong with you people? Seriously, stop speaking as if we’re in a _shoujo_ manga… Who are you planning to add after this? A teacher? Our headmaster? A hot gardener? I even only need one hand to count how many times I’ve been confessed throughout my life, unlike Kei who needs a sack of rice.”

“I’ll be honest, I want you to stay with Tsukki. When you’re around, he becomes more talkative and optimistic, like he actually wants to play volleyball and survive this life. I love when the two of you laugh at the same time because of a silly video or when you snuggle him and he doesn’t complain. I’ve told you many times—those are the best moments. I’m sorry if I can’t really give you any advice on what to do because everything with you is his first. Maybe it’s better if you let him be for a day or two, but again, I’m not sure. Although don’t worry, he’s not going to hate you.”

“If only he wants to be a bit more understanding,” I curtly reply as I check behind me. We stand in the middle of a road and I sense people walking toward us, but it’s just my feeling since I see no one around, unless if I count the birds flying in the sky. I hope those aren’t ghosts because I don’t have time to worry about dead things when I can’t even take care of the living ones, specifically Kei.

“I don’t have anything else to talk about, so do you want to go home now? Let me walk you to the train station.”

“No, no need,” I refuse Yamaguchi with a smile. “Thank you, but I’m good. We go to different directions, anyway.”

“Hm? Okay. If you say so… I guess, see you tomorrow?”

“Yes. See you tomorrow.”

It’s hilarious to realize that we speak our farewell too soon. We still need to walk together for two to three minutes until Yamaguchi has to head to the neighborhood area while I must keep heading onward to the train station. Once again, we say goodbye as we wave each other’s hand. I don’t need a long time to arrive at the crowded place, full of those who just came back from work, school, or wherever their heart desires. I see some male students wearing Datekou’s jersey and I curse this city for being too tiny because every school seems to only be separated by a tiny house, not an entire district.

As I look for my train schedule, my pride loses its battle against my need to search everywhere for Kei’s figure. He might still be here, waiting for the same train as me. He might be watching me from somewhere far, maybe near the balcony on the second floor. There are some small cafes around here and he could also be there, regardless the widely known fact that he’s not a person who’ll waste his money and free time in a place like that. He’s a homebody who prefers to read books while listening to music on his bed. I soon give up because it seems very difficult to spot him, even when he’s taller than everyone else.

Once I know that my train will arrive in fifteen minutes, I choose to spend the time by sitting on a bench. Most of them are occupied, but there’s this one that only has an office lady in her mid-twenties. He has a genial face and is busy playing _Candy Crush_ on her tablet. It should be fine, so I ask if I can be next to her, in case she’s waiting for someone. She permits me with a smile and I sit down as I put my bag between us, just beside her smaller one. I take out my phone and turn it on, letting it load for as long as it needs. It’s not even thirty seconds later when the lady stands up, picking her bag and leaving without uttering anything. It’s not like she’s obliged to say goodbye to a stranger.

There are some new chats for me. Some are individual messages from those who I expected to send me something important like Goshiki, Wakatoshi, and Asuka. Some are from those who seek for more information about my secret rendezvous with Wakatoshi. This won’t ever end even after we try to make a press conference, but I hope it’ll subdue by the end of this week. No matter how hot a topic is, at one point, people will eventually get tired and move one, including those gossipy ones. I take a deep breath as I patiently open everything one by one, perhaps also replying when it’s necessary. I do have to skip Shiratorizawa’s group chat because it has more than five hundred chats and it’s very unlikely for me to read them from the beginning.

 _Asuka_  
_Senpai, finally you’re chatting me! 4:34 PM_  
_I miss you so much, how are you? 4:34 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:23 PM Hi, there! I just got back from my club_  
_ 6:23 PM Do you know that I’m the manager for the boys’ volleyball team?_  
_ 6:23 PM I’m good overall, how are you?_  
_ 6:23 PM How’s school?_

 _ Kuroo _  
_Hime-chan, are you doing alright? This morning everybody in my club was talking about you and Ushiwaka. Many were fanboying, it was crazy 4:02 PM_  
_You haven’t explained me why you lied at first ;/ 4:02 PM_  
_But that’s fine, Hime-chan, I'm not going to force you, okay? 4:02 PM_  
_How’s your day? 4:02 PM_

 _Me_  
_Thanks?_  
_ 6:24 PM I just didn’t want people to bother me when they found out and they did, both_  
_ 6:24 PM Whatever, I don’t care anymore_  
_ 6:24 PM I can’t even feel anything now_  
_ 6:24 PM My day’s normal, how’s yours?_

 _Bokuto_  
_Hime-chan! Tell me more about Ushiwaka, please? 3:55 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:25 PM Like what? I don’t know a lot of things about him…_

 _Kiyoomi_  
_So you’re with Wakatoshi-kun? Since when? 3:12 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:25 PM Seriously?_  
_ 6:25 PM The last time you chatted me was in December and now you’re coming out of nowhere only to ask me this?_  
_ 6:25 PM How rude!_  
_ 6:25 PM And you call him with his first name?_  
_ 6:26 PM You two must be very close_

 _Iwaizumi_  
_Are you really with Ushijima? 2:47 PM_  
_Let me tell you something: he’s not really a good person. He’s rude, arrogant, and he only thinks about himself. Don’t be attracted to him just because he’s “the” ace. You can do better than this. I’m sure many boys are more than willing to be your boyfriend! 2:48 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:26 PM Iwaizumi-senpai is too classy to say things like these to me_  
_ 6:26 PM Maybe he will when he’s very drunk, but then again, he’s too classy to carelessly get drunk when he’s still a high school student_  
_ 6:26 PM Therefore Oikawa, please don’t hack someone else’s phone_  
_ 6:26 PM That’s a crime and get a life_  
_ 6:26 PM Chat me yourself, I don’t block you_

I sigh, cursing at my idiocy and those redundant words I could just not write.

_Me_  
_ 6:27 PM That was a joke, by the way_  
_ 6:27 PM Don’t chat me, I won’t reply_

There are of course a few private messages from Wakatoshi, but I skip them as I go to Goshiki’s. There’s something I need to tell him and only him. I can’t picture someone else.

_Me_  
_ 6:27 PM Are you there?_

_Goshiki_  
_Hey! How was your day? Chaotic? 6:28 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:28 PM It’s sad_  
_ 6:28 PM I’m sad_

_Goshiki_  
_Oh, no... 6:28 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:28 PM Can we have a call?_  
_ 6:28 PM But it’s quite loud here, I’m waiting for my train to arrive in around 10 minutes_

_Goshiki_  
_That's fine 6:28 PM  
_

I’m already planning to call him first, but he does the favor and I answer with a grin, “Hey, there.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Goshiki asks without a pause. He sounds very concerned of my well-being and I’d do the same if our roles were switched. That’s what best friends forever do.

“I’m going to tell you everything, but please don’t you dare let your captain know. He’s going to worry too much. Probably he’ll want to come to my school tomorrow and try to explain everything to my friends. I don’t want that,” I warn him beforehand.

“Ah, you mean I mustn’t tell ‘Wakatoshi’?” Goshiki teases me with a pitchy voice. “Wait, don’t get mad. Go read the group chat. He basically told everyone about your date yesterday. I bet you didn’t tell him to keep it as a secret.”

I grunt because I don’t have time for this. “That’s fine. He can do whatever he wants in that group because everyone already knows about us. I’m not going to be overdramatic, but the thing that I feared of did happen in my school today. My friends asked me a lot of stupid and unnecessary things about Wakatoshi. One even asked about what kind of food he ate and I said that he ate rice and soy sauce like the rest of us.”

Goshiki cackles like his best friend isn’t mentally suffering. “Well, what can you expect? Same thing happened to me when I entered Shiratorizawa. Everybody asked me about you, even Ushijima-san who I thought would never care about someone else.”

“Ugh, I have no clue why when we were in middle school, I didn’t feel this restless. I even liked it to be interviewed by the media. I enjoyed being very popular and well-known. When those girls backstabbed me, I also didn’t mind that much. I still laughed and went along with my days. Have I turned for the worst after my accident?”

“Well, back then you didn’t really care about what people thought of you. Now you do. You’re not the worst, but it’s always better to care less, don’t you agree? Take your time. You don’t have a bad personality, so you don’t have to worry about not having anyone to like you.”

“Ugh…” I lean back, staring up at the sky that hasn’t changed color and wiping my cheeks from the tears that don’t exist. “Anyway… Kageyama got angry at me, accusing me for cheating on Kei.”

Goshiki straightaway laughs, louder than before.

“Hey! Be serious!” I shout in displeasure and agony. “Stop laughing and listen properly to me! Kei in particular got even angrier and more sarcastic than ever. Right now I’m alone because he doesn’t want to go home with me anymore. I’m not sure if he’s serious because maybe he’ll talk to me again in two days, but I was told by Kiyoko-senpai and Yachi that Noya-san and Tanaka-san were teasing him about how he lost to Wakatoshi. They said he looked hurt. For the entire day, I wasn’t able to have a normal conversation with him.”

“Hmm… Yeah, I’ve noticed from the beginning that he has a feeling for you.”

“No, he doesn’t… He doesn’t have a lot of friends so maybe that’s why he can be a bit possessive. He’s not creepy, of course, but I admit that sometimes it feels like he wants to keep me all for himself. Among everyone, I’m the only one who can be that patient whenever he does something horrendous, so yeah…” I try to make sense of this problem, but I’m not sure anyone will be able to understand my point of view. “But I’m good. It’s not like I’ll die without him or the only way I can go home is if he’s with me.”

“I’m sure you’re good, but you’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

I bite my lips, spending some time before muttering, “…yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I repeat and pout. “I don’t want to fight him. I wish he would understand me like I understand him. I wish it wouldn’t be that easy for him to get extremely furious over the silliest thing. I wish he wouldn’t act like a little kid. I wish he’d be kinder like you. You never treat me without respect.”

“And yet, you stay. I’m not saying that it’s your fault, but he must be acting however he wants because it’s guaranteed that you’ll always forgive him once he apologizes. That plus the fact that he’s still like a little kid. The next time he tries to come to you, maybe you should try to ignore him completely. Show him that you’re so sick of his attitude and with or without him, your days will still be bright. You’re not wrong for befriending Ushijima-san, so I don’t see his point of getting angry.”

“Eh? For real? Who are you? Why are you speaking so maturely? Give me back my cute and clueless Shiki-chan…”

“Hey, I’m mature enough!” Goshiki squeaks before clearing his throat. “So yeah. That Tsukishima Kei should try to win your heart and not treat you this way. How stupid.”

“Thank you. I’ll follow your advice. I can manage.” I stand up as I can see my train coming from far away, but its speed will make the arrival feel like seconds. “Shiki-chan, I feel slightly better after talking to you. My train will arrive soon. I’ll chat you when I’m inside, okay? Don’t leave me alone.”

“Hey, maybe you should tell Ushijima-san about this. He’ll be very heartbroken if he finds out later. He’ll assume you don’t trust him enough.”

“No, not now. I’m afraid he’ll overthink. I don’t want to bother him. He has too much on his plate because of FIVB. He doesn’t need one more problem from me. Uh, the train is near. See you later,” I say my hasty farewell as I end the call after he gives me a faint “take care”. I plunge my phone inside my bag and close the zipper, making sure that I don’t leave a thing because there’s no chance I’m going to get it back. After the loudness fully stops, I let the previous passengers walk out first before I enter the half empty train. Not having to stand for the whole trip is one of the many convenient things of living in a rural town like this.

It’s a no-brainer for me to sit on my usual place. I thought I would be alone like what happened before, but there’s an old man sitting next to me, right where Kei should’ve been.  He only stays for less than ten seconds before he stands and walks to another place, among some people who are still looking for a perfect place even when there are a lot of available spaces around us. A moment later, I put my bag on my lap as I tightly hug it, eyes gazing outside the window in front of me. It’ll be a lie if I say that I’m not searching for the same figure as when I just came here.

I’m so weak. A minute ago, I told Goshiki that I could manage not having Kei here with me. My parents have taught me how to be independent since I was very young by letting me speak to a cashier when I wanted to buy a cone of ice cream or leaving me alone at home when it’s very dark outside. Right now, I’m even brave enough to travel around the world all by myself. I don’t need someone to be by my side. I don’t need anyone, but when I see an empty spot beside me, I have to grit my teeth and control my breathing. I have to contain my emotion because I don’t want to burst into tears.

How pathetic. Even after everything, I truly want no one but Kei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that’s it. Thank you so much for reading after almost a year. This is the end of this series. I’m going to write another series for another fandom. See you guys sometime later in the future~ :D
> 
> But hey, who else thinks that Kei has trust issues?  
> Who thinks that the heroine actually _likes_ Kei?  (I’ll get hit by Ushijima fans after this aaaaaaaaa)


	44. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Turn on the CC.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hiYNvJqs-U)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOES ANYONE MISS ME? (╥﹏╥)
> 
> I love how only 0.3% of you cared when I wrote “this is the end of this series”. Probably half just rolled their eyes and half was like: _Yeah, right. This shitty person is trying to trick us again after doing it for 15 times lol no. Stop it. You’re not funny. Now where’s Ushijima the teddy bear?_
> 
> You guys are mean. Do you even know that I got very sick? (╥﹏╥)
> 
> Anyway I realized that F/N is less annoying than [F/N], so I’m changing it from now on. I’m also worried about the pacing of this chapter, but I hope it’s smooth enough.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

On Wednesday, I struggle to maintain how I should present myself in front of Kei for the entire day. After hearing Goshiki’s advice, I thought I had crafted the perfect scenario in my mind. I thought I would enter the gym with a bright laughter and see Kei as any other player in the team. I thought I would hand him his towel with a smart punch-line like there’s nothing going on between us. The reality is that it’s a very impossible thing to do. I keep finding myself reacting to his voice, no matter how far it is. He can be speaking to Yamaguchi about their middle school teacher and I’ll somewhat lose my focus when refilling everyone’s bottles.

On Thursday, my parents bring me out to dinner at this Italian restaurant. It’s been a while since we can spend family time like this because my father is rarely home and when he is, it’ll be my mother’s turn to be away. They ask about my team and I boast about their improvement during the summer training camp. I talk a lot about everyone because I’m so sure that we’ll stand a higher chance against Aoba Jousai. Everything goes well until they mention Kei. I have a hard time breathing, ending up smiling and combing my hair a lot of times like a total idiot. Luckily, my parents don’t seem to notice anything fishy.

On Friday, I see Kei sitting somewhere in the middle of the same train we ride to school. It’s nothing unknown since this early encounter happens at least three times a week, especially when there aren’t many passengers around. Usually, we would smile when we saw each other and then move to sit closely, spending the next five minutes cracking some jokes or watching videos while sharing the same earphones he always brought from home. This time, he only keeps his head down with his phone in hands as I walk by and nestle quite far from him. I know he sees me, but I also know that he won’t just say hi.

On Saturday, I start the morning by having a phone call with Wakatoshi. My parents tell me to focus on my breakfast and not doing something else, but once they know that it’s him, they strangely don’t mind anymore. He says that his friends worry much more than he does and they all remind him to keep rechecking his bags. I already know everything because I read the group chat. Our conversation goes until he needs to leave to the airport at seven, together with Yamagata who’s willing to wake up earlier for this and a few of their dormmates. I wish him many good lucks before I spend time surfing the internet until I must go to Karasuno.

On Sunday, we have our one-day break, in which we are advised to take a full rest. Unfortunately, not for someone like me. I spend the entire morning helping my parents clean the house and their cars, then my father leaves to meet his high school friends and my mother forces me to shop for our monthly supply with her. I help her prepare our dinner and I get to relax after I wash all the dishes. I stay inside my room when at the same time, Wakatoshi has his break and wants to call me. We talk about our day so far, just like usual. We say goodbye when we need to take a shower at nine. It’s extremely hard for us to part ways because he keeps begging for one more minute and I keep declining them.

On Monday, I get my permission to leave three hours earlier because of my part-time job. I overhear Kei telling Takeda and Ukai that he needs to leave at five, which is two hours after me, but an hour before everyone else. He says that he needs to take care of some family. The first thing that crosses my mind is a hope for his day to end well, but then I try not to care. I try to remove all the sympathy and curiosity I have. If the same thing were to happen to me, he wouldn’t worry the slightest, so why should I?

On Tuesday and the rest of the week, it feels as if Kei and I are two strangers who are forced to meet by the unkind destiny. We stand close to each other, but we never speak a word. It really is praiseworthy to see how well we can act like we have no sweet memories together because we only know each other’s name and nothing more than that. The others might find this to be very funny, yet tragic at the same time. They used to ask me about Kei whenever he’s not around, but now they can’t do that anymore because I won’t have an answer. I wonder if the same thing happens to him too.

* * *

On Sunday, August eleventh, everyone from the club gathers around a mini bus parked in Karasuno’s front yard. Each player carries a bag of their official uniform and some personal belongings, while the managers handle the bags full of drink and some boxes of bananas for snacking. As we wait for Takeda who’s still doing some small work inside the school, no one can stop talking about how thrilling it is that we’re finally going to Spring High preliminaries. It can be said that today is the day we’ve been waiting the most since Interhigh. We’re all very optimistic to get through the day and compete with all the powerhouses in October.

Unlike everyone else, there’s one trivial matter that’s been weighing my mind since the moment I woke up this morning. It’s the seating, the place where we’ll spend the next sixty minutes of ride to the tournament. Usually, I’ll just be on the backseat with my lovely best friend, Kei, but we both know that’s not going to happen today. I can surely enter the bus first and claim the place before he does. Unfortunately, he’s already inside since minutes ago, when I was still very busy doing other things. I don’t want childish argument over a seat to be the form of our first exchange after almost two weeks of total silence.

While I still have time, I run to Yamaguchi who’s casually laughing with Hinata near the bus. “Hey, Yamaguchi. Will you sit… uh, with Kei?”

“Hm?” Yamaguchi raises his eyebrows. “Oh, no. I think he’s going to sit on the back like usual. I’m going to be with Ennoshita-san.”

“Really? Ugh, wouldn’t it be nicer if the seats weren’t so perfectly in sync with the number of people we have?” I grumble, wanting to cover my face and cry if that can make myself feel better. “Wait… Ukai-san will sit alone, right? But I don’t want to be with him… It’ll be awkward… Everyone already has a partner… Then Hinata? You’re with Kageyama, aren’t you? Please switch with me?”

“You want me to sit with Tsukishima? No, thanks. I don’t want to be near that guy. I don’t think he wants to be near me either. Just sit with him like what you always do.” Hinata shakes his head rapidly, perhaps to show how much he loathes the taller middle blocker. I can understand because I’ve seen them mock each other one too many times.

“If the two of you sit together, then maybe you can finally have a proper conversation and mend things…” Yamaguchi gives an expected suggestion since among everyone on earth, he’s the one who wants me and Kei to be together the most. If only Kei could have his kind heart, then everything would be as easy as flipping a hand.

“Yeah, that’s a nice idea. Don’t you want to fix your relationship with him? It feels weird not to see you and him yelling at each other over whether slightly light blue is better than normal light blue. Sometimes it’s fun. Like watching a free stand-up comedy,” Hinata adds, chuckling after he’s done with his last word.

“Um, yeah… I’m…” I nervously stroke the back of my head. “It’ll be too problematic to find someone to sit with me because the second years are always in their own topic about sexy gravure idols and the third years are quite exclusive… So, yeah…”

“Don’t worry. You can do it.”

I think I really need those four positive words from Hinata because one second later, Takeda comes out and orders us to enter the bus. I walk in after most of the players, taking a deep breath as I continue to the back area. It’s very funny yet strange that all the steps I take seem so heavy, as if I’m heading to a battle I know I can’t win and will result in me dying helplessly. Only three meters away, Kei notices me—shown by how he tilts his head up a bit—but his sight never goes higher than my knees. He always sees me, but he never wants to stare into my eyes. I feel deeply sorry that I’ve disgusted him so much.

Without muttering a word, I drop my bag on the floor and lean on the hard cushion, resting my legs on top of my bag. There’s no space between us, thus my skin can feel the warmth of his arm, even when we both wears a long sleeve jacket. As I take my phone from my pocket, I keep thinking that maybe he’ll try to do something to make me go—perhaps by politely asking or simply by shoving me away. He can also do it in a subtle way by scooting to the right and putting his bag between us. I choose to ignore him and check on my phone, where I can see a bunch of unopened messages from Shiratorizawa’s group chat.

_Yamagata_  
_Does anyone have a pair of slippers size 29.5? 6:44 AM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Eh?????? 6:44 AM_  
_For Ushijima-san right?????? 6:44 AM  
_

_Yamagata_   
_Of course. No one else has a size that big 6:44 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_You’ve answered your own question, Yamagata-san 6:45 AM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Kawanishi-san’s shoes are also big 6:45 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Yeah, I’m 29 6:45 AM_  
_He can borrow mine or just buy a new one now 6:45 AM  
_

_Yamagata_  
_Can’t, he wants to save as much money as possible for our souvenirs 6:45 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Oh 6:45 AM_  
_6:45 AM_

_Goshiki_  
_He’d rather buy food than cheap slippers 6:45 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Don’t say that you’d rather eat cheap slippers than French chocolates 6:45 AM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_You can’t compare a 1,000 yen worth of slippers to 10,000 yen worth of chocolates!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6:46 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Aren’t you tired of tapping too many exclamation marks? 6:46 AM  
_

_Yamagata_  
_Hahahaha 6:46 AM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_6:46 AM_

_Kawanishi_  
_“I hate Ushijima-san, but I’ll love him unconditionally if that means I can get free chocolates,” says Goshiki while drooling. 6:46 AM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Hey! Stop bullying me! 6:46 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_6:47 AM_

_Goshiki_  
_I’m going back to sleep 6:47 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Wakatoshi-kun will be there for 10 days 7:05 AM_  
_Will 3 jeans be enough? 7:05 AM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Will the hotel give free laundry? 7:05 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Wait 7:05 AM_  
_Yes, he said 7:06 AM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Then it’s enough. Wear one, then wash the other one. 7:06 AM_  
_Same goes with the underwear, pajamas, etc. 7:06 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_I _’_ m positive that all good hotels give free laundry 7:06 AM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Are you still helping him pack his stuff? 7:06 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Yes, yes 7:06 AM_  
_Me, Reon, and Hayato-kun 7:06 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_Wait, why does he need to bring slippers? He’s going to get some from the hotel 7:17 AM  
_

_Yamagata_  
_Yes, but not his size 7:17 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_Oh. You’re right 7:17 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Semisemi can be wrong apparently~ 7:17 AM_  
_7:17 AM_

_Semi_  
_Shut up, don’t call me that and don’t use that sticker 7:18 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_7:18 AM_  
_Aren’t you coming here? 7:18 AM_

_Semi_  
_Can’t. Working 7:18 AM_  
_I’m not you. I want to earn my own money during summer break 7:18 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_How harsh! 7:18 AM_  
_7:18 AM_

_Semi_  
_Yeah yeah yeah 7:18 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_7:18 AM_

_Kawanishi_  
_Why are you guys worrying so much about Ushijima-san? 9:36 AM_  
_He doesn’t seem to mind bringing whatever he has inside his wardrobe 9:36 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_His luggage can’t weigh more than 23kg 9:36 AM_  
_His handbag can’t weigh more than 10kg 9:36 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_And then? 9:36 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_He needs space for our souvenirs, you dense!!!!!!!!! 9:36 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Oh, right!_  
_9:37 AM_

 _ Me _  
_ 10:11 AM You guys are so sincere xD_

 _ Tendou _  
_Hime-chan!!! 10:11 AM_

 _ Kawanishi _  
_Good morning~ 10:11 AM_

 _ Me _  
_ 10:11 AM Hello, hello~_  
_ 10:11 AM I’m on my way to Kaji Gymnasium for the first preliminaries_

 _ Tendou _  
_Good luck! 10:11 AM_

 _ Kawanishi _  
_Where’s Kaji? 10:12 AM_

 _ Me _  
_ 10:12 AM Thank you, Tendou-san_  
_ 10:12 AM It’s in Tagajou_  
_ 10:12 AM Kaji High School Gymnasium_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_Hello, you’re here 10:12 AM_

 _ Kawanishi_  
_Oh, I’ve never been to Tagajou 10:12 AM _

_Me_  
_ 10:12 AM Hello~_

_Tendou_  
_Hime-chan, can I tell you something very important? 10:12 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:12 AM Sure!_

_Tendou_  
_Wakatoshi-kun is the cutest human being ever 10:12 AM_  
_The moment I told him that you’re online, he immediately left his bag and reached for his phone 10:12 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:12 AM Hahaha_

_Wakatoshi_  
_Why is that cute? 10:13 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:13 AM It’s even cuter that you don’t know why you’re cute :D_

_Wakatoshi_  
_What? 10:13 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_You two need to get your own room 10:13 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_10:13 AM_

_Wakatoshi_  
_I don’t understand, but anyway, good luck with your match 10:13 AM_  
_I’ll see you in October 10:13 AM  
_

_Me_  
  _ 10:13 AM Yes, you’re going to treat me lunch!_

_Kawanishi_  
_How about me, Ushijima-san? 10:13 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Taichi, shut up 10:13 AM_  
_Or go find a cool boyfriend yourself 10:13 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_But… I’m straight 10:13 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_10:14 AM_  
_Hime-chan is so lucky to have a boyfriend like Wakatoshi-kun_ 10:14 AM

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_What are you talking about? I’m not her boyfriend 10:14 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_You mean not “yet”? 10:14 AM_  
_10:14 AM_

_Wakatoshi_  
_Yes 10:14 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:14 AM Stop it!_

 _Tendou_  
  _10:14 AM_

_Me_  
_ 10:14 AM Wakatoshi is the worst_  
_10:14 AM_  

_Wakatoshi_  
_Why? 10:14 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_The first name basis! I still can’t get over it! 10:14 AM_  
_10:14 AM_

_Kawanishi_  
_Tendou-san, let’s leave the two lovebirds 10:15 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_This is a public place, so they should go to their private space 10:15 AM_  
_Like what they always do every night 10:15 AM_  
_10:15 AM_

I grunt, but I’m not as annoyed as I was a week ago. I’m pretty much used of everyone’s treatment. Wakatoshi and I do tend to act like we’re totally inseparable, so the only option I have to prevent them from teasing us is to stop interacting with Wakatoshi. I know I can’t do that and I don’t want to do that.

 _ Shirabu _  
_How perverted 10:15 AM_

 _ Tendou_  
_What??? I mean they always have a phone call every night!!! 10:15 AM _

_ Shirabu_  
_Whatever 10:15 AM _

_Me_  
_ 10:15 AM Is Semi-san still very busy?_

_Tendou_  
_There she goes again… 10:15 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Well, it’s Sunday 10:15 AM_  
_But he’s usually only reading the chat and not replying until he needs to 10:15 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:15 AM Oh…_

_Tendou_  
_You seriously like him a lot, don’t you? 10:16 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:16 AM Of course :D_

_Kawanishi_  
_What about Wakatoshi? Do you like him a lot too? 10:16 AM  
_

Oh my. I want to beg Kawanishi to not be like Tendou, but I understand that being calm and ignoring their never-ending taunt is the best I can do to myself and Wakatoshi.

_Tendou_  
_Nice one, Taichi 10:16 AM_  
_10:16 AM_  
_And Hime-chan, don’t you dare not answer that!_ 10:16 AM

_Me_  
_ 10:16 AM Well_  
_ 10:16 AM I like everyone equally_

_Kawanishi_  
_That’s a straight up lie 10:16 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_I second that 10:16 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:16 AM Fine, think however you want_

_Semi_  
_Hi there 10:17 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:17 AM Semi-san! :D_

_Semi_  
_I’m sorry that I’m always unavailable. I’m very busy with the salon 10:17 AM  
_

_Me_  
_10:17 AM_

_Tendou_  
_Wait I need to laugh 10:17 AM_  
_Wait a minute 10:17 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:17 AM That’s fine, I just want to say hi to you!_

_Tendou_  
_Jeez Wakatoshi-kun, jeez 10:17 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_^^ 10:17 AM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_What’s wrong? 10:17 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_He just asked whether Hime-chan likes Eita-kun 10:17 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_What? 10:18 AM  
_

_Me_  
_10:18 AM_ _Aaah stop_

_Semi_  
_No, duh -_- 10:18 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Hayato-kun and Reon are laughing so hard 10:18 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_Wakatoshi, please -_- 10:18 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 10:18 AM What’s wrong with you people?_  
_ 10:18 AM Stop with this topic already :(_

_Kawanishi_  
_10:18 AM_

_Tendou_  
_Don’t blame me! 10:18 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_Rest assured, Wakatoshi 10:18 AM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_I’m alright 10:18 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_……… 10:18 AM_  
_For real -_- 10:18 AM _  
_You’re not mad at me, are you? 10:18 AM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_No. We’re good 10:18 AM  
_

_Semi_  
_Gosh 10:18 AM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Hime-chan should assure Wakatoshi-kun~ 10:19 AM_  
_10:19 AM_

I’m surprised when Kei suddenly moves, seemingly to take his phone out of his jacket, then connect it with the headphones he gets from the black bag beneath his legs. I don’t blatantly turn my head to gawk at him, but I can see pretty much everything from my peripherals. At this point, the desperate side of me wonders if I should start a tiny conversation with him. Should I ask about the music he’s going to listen? Are there some new singles he might want me to hear? It’s been a while since he talked about a hidden gem he accidentally found on Youtube.

“Can’t you move a bit to the left?”

My heart leaps out of its place when Kei asks me a short question. Like a fool who doesn’t understand Japanese, I stare at him, eyes widening and jaw slightly dropping. I’m stunned because the last time he spoke to me was twelve days ago. I’m also enraptured because the last time he spoke to me was twelve days ago.

I won’t lie. I really miss this.

“What?” I ask, despite the fact that I heard his request very clearly. I suppose I unconsciously do it out of habit and excitement.

“It’s packed here. I can’t move my legs freely, therefore I kindly ask you to give me more space,” he answers with a flat tone before looking back to the front, as if keeping his eyes on me will cost him thousands of yen.

“But it’s packed everywhere. Look around us.” I show him the obvious proof that we’re surrounded by heavy boxes. I can’t afford to move even an inch for myself, let alone for other people. We surely can move the boxes to our laps to give us a little space, but only dumb people will choose to do that.

“Why are you even here? Go sit with someone else.” His voice comes out like a mumble, but we’re sitting too close to each other. I’m not completely deaf to not notice the softest breath he can produce.

“Why are you telling me to go?” I emphasize every single word and grit my teeth in disgust because I can’t accept his abrupt rudeness. “Have you forgotten that I was the first who sat on the backseat and you just came uninvited to be with me since day one? It’s you who should go sit somewhere else or just get out of the bus. Nobody needs you here after all.”

“Do you two need a knife?”

Before Kei can counter my sentences, we hear Sawamura calling us from one of the front seats. It takes me two seconds to realize that the entire bus has become dead silent from our captain’s grim question. This is very embarrassing, but since I need to make myself feel better, I’ll say that this is a bit more bearable than if I were in a bus of fifty people. Even when I’m the manager, it doesn’t mean that I’m very close to everyone. I can only consider Kei, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, and the other two managers as my “friend”. The only thing I know about my upperclassmen is that they can be very intrusive when I don’t want them to.

“How is it? Do you need a knife? Maybe you want to stab each other to death,” Sawamura continues when none of us answers. I pout and keep my head low, while Kei prefers to stare at the window to his right. When Sawamura decides to let this matter go, the others begin to pick up their previous talk and the lively noises come back fast. Soon after, both Kei and I are fully taken by our own thing—me with my messaging app and him with his loud music.

* * *

I’ve never been to Kaji High School or any other part of Tagajou. There’s nothing quite different about this lukewarm countryside and my own town since the only place that can be called a metropolitan area in Miyagi is none other than Sendai. After leaving the bus, I’m greeted by Kiyoko and Yachi. The three of us will be working side by side for the entire day, so we must stick together. Or precisely, Kiyoko will be with the team during the match, while Yachi and I will wait on the bleacher. Yachi isn’t ready to handle the heat and I simply don’t want to be exposed more than this.

“Are you good with not wearing any hat?” Before any of the girls say a word, Sugawara comes to join us by asking me a question. I already thought that someone would eventually wonder about my disguise—either him, Sawamura, or one of the two adults we have with us.

“Oh? No, it’s okay.” I stare at his beautiful face, grinning to show that I care less now than I did last month, although still not fully. “I don’t think I can do this forever and I’ve been out in public because of what happened recently. It’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll just be careful.”

“Well, there aren’t many reporters here, so I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just hide behind Asahi when they come to you. He’s a big dude.”

“I’m not sure if someone like Azumane can protect her. He can’t even protect a kitten,” Kiyoko states with no expression, not even a small twitch of her eyebrow. Somehow, her cold demeanor makes her honesty seem to be more hurtful than it should. I’m thankful that Azumane isn’t around to hear that. He’s easily depressed and it won’t be good for him to be sad before an important match.

“What about Tsukishima? Hmm, I guess Tsukishima won’t be around you? Don’t you want to try to talk things out with him again?” Sugawara jumps into another question with a smile that must have some hidden power behind it because it makes me feel very vulnerable. It’s as if I can discuss about anything and in return, he’ll tell me words of kindness that I need to hear.

“Uh, yes. Maybe later. I don’t want to bother myself too much with that, but thank you for your concern. I appreciate that,” I give him an obvious hint that I don’t want to talk about this forever. I feel very grateful for everyone’s concern including his, but our Spring High preliminaries is more important than my personal problem with Kei—which in all honesty, has happened far too many times to be taken too seriously like the first time.

Sugawara understands me and he only sighs before heading to Sawamura who’s still busy inside of the bus, most likely carrying the boxes out with the help of a few others. Kiyoko’s the first one to invite us into the medium-sized building, where we can see quite a lot of players from both genders passing in and out with their colorful jersey. For those who have never gone to any gym outside their small hometown, they’ll probably think that Kaji’s quite huge. Not me, since I’ve been to many places in Tokyo. This one is even nothing compared to Shiratorizawa.

Right after we take off our shoes and walk through the long and narrow hallway, I straightaway notice how people stare at my face like I’m a celebrity they’ve been waiting to arrive since three hours ago. With Kiyoko and Yachi standing beside me, I feel somewhat fine, but not entirely protected. Should I maybe go back to where the boys are and wait for them to guard me with their presence? I never thought that I’d love to hold Tanaka’s arms and cover my face behind Ennoshita’s back. Even more, I never thought that people would care about my bland appearance when there’s an immaculate goddess like Kiyoko nearby.

No one is dumb enough to loudly gossip about me, but no one is smart enough to not obviously whisper to each other while glancing at me. This isn’t my debut in facing people talking behind my back—both with the intentions of me hearing their conversation and not—but the experience I had was with all those petty girls from my club in middle school. This is still my first time having to witness random boys treat me in a way that I don’t really enjoy. I’m unable to find the exact words to describe my feeling, but I adore Wakatoshi’s teammates and these people aren’t like them.

“Hey, F/N-chan! Why don’t you share a few bits and pieces about Ushiwaka with us? Being his girl, you must know a lot! Tell us about his number one weakness!”

I scrunch up my nose while keeping my eyes to the front because I don’t want to look to the left and see the face of the guy who just asked me the cheapest question of the month—and also, called me with my first name when I clearly never gave him a permission to. Now instead of being annoyed, I’m weirded out. I’m not sure if Wakatoshi has a real weakness that’ll ruin his volleyball career, but even if he has a little crack in his outstanding performances, I’m not going to share it to anyone. I don’t even say a thing to my own parents and team.

“We’ll pay you real money to tell us how to beat him!” another random guy sends his request.

“Shh, just ignore them,” Kiyoko soothes me. In a way, she warns me not to roar out loud and embarrass myself in public. She places her hand on my back, guiding me through the front part of the long hallway.

It takes us no time to arrive in front of the gym where we’re going to have our first match in a few hours from now. Inside, we can see many workers who are setting up nets, chairs, and some other necessities. We don’t intend to bother any of them, so we opt to wait outside for the rest of our group to come. It’s quieter here because there aren’t as many people as before and most just scatter all around the corners with their own affair to worry about. Some who notice my existence do take their moment to scrunitize me, but the great distance between me and them manages to alleviate my misery.

“Those guys were very rude!” Yachi begins to talk, putting her hands inside her trousers’ pockets and staring up at me. “Please don’t mind them! You’re like a celebrity around here, that’s why they’re like that! There were thirty people out there, but only two who picked on you!”

“Um, I wasn’t into volleyball when I was in middle school, so I didn’t know anything about you back then, but has it always been like this? Do people always treat you like a celebrity?” Kiyoko asks.

“I have to say that this is worse,” I reply, briefly scanning people around us. “Back then, I was in a team and I was always surrounded by other players, so I didn’t really care about anything else. When people saw me, they’d just think ‘oh, that’s the girl, she’s there and she’s going to win everything’. I’m sure they see Wakatoshi or any other great player in that way too. Now… you see, I’m no longer a player and I’ve changed my profession into a manager of a school that’s not as cool as Shiratorizawa or Niiyama. I’ve hid from the media for almost a year. The first time I was heard? It’s when Bokuto-san accidentally posted my video on Twitter and the site blew up. Then the second time I was heard? It’s about my sudden romance with Ushijima Wakatoshi and everyone’s mind blew up even harder.”

Kiyoko sighs, presumably because she pities my fate. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say besides please be patient. There’s nothing much you can do about this because it’s someone like you with someone like Ushijima Wakatoshi. I can tell that you’re going to have it even worse when we’re in Sendai Gymnasium, but you just have to ignore them, okay?”

“But I don’t get these people and their questions. Even if they know everything about Wakatoshi, it’s not like they’ll stand a chance against him. Volleyball needs years of practice. It’s not a history class where you can get a good score by memorizing theories the night before. Who do they think they are? They need more than a lifetime to even be half as good as him—”

I stop blabbering the moment I see Azumane and Sugawara, followed by the rest of our people. Sawamura beckons his fingers to us managers and we take that as a sign to move our feet somewhere else. Without anyone questioning his decision, he leads us to the second floor of the building. There are a quite a lot of people here and again, they seem to be so amazed to see me being here. As we walk to one corner and set our stuff down, I keep reminding myself to maintain my posture because my every movement is being globally broadcasted to the whole world. Even the way I bend my legs should be proportionally graceful.

This is so stupid.

“Hey, girl!” Tanaka leaps to me when I’m just about to remove my jacket. “Do you know that Ougiminami—our first opponent today—was beaten pretty badly by Shiratorizawa during last Interhigh? It was twenty-five versus six!”

“Six?!” Yachi squeaks, but I’m not surprised at all. I’ve never heard about Ougiminami since it seems to be a school that’s even less known than Karasuno, but hearing people miserably lose against Shiratorizawa is akin to hearing people get married on Saturdays. It happens all the time.

“Oi, it’s Ushiwaka, you know! You don’t mess up with Ushiwaka!” Tanaka proudly declares, as if Wakatoshi is his secret lover. “But for real! Do you think we stand a chance against Ougiminami? Give us a percentage! If it’s coming from you, it should be believable!”

I grunt while folding my jacket twice and throwing it on top of my bag on the ground. “You guys almost won against Aoba Jousai, so if all the players are still the same as Interhigh, then there’s a one hundred percent chance of us going to the top sixteen. That said, we can never be sure because who knows if Ougiminami has a new player who’s as excellent as Kageyama.”

“That’s true.” Tanaka nods his head before smirking. “You know people from Shiratorizawa, don’t you? Do we stand a chance against them?”

“No comment,” I immediately respond, ignoring him as I walk alone to the balcony and lean forward to see the crowd down there. Technically speaking, if there’s a fifty percent chance of us winning against Aoba Jousai, there’s a twenty-five percent chance of us winning against Shiratorizawa. But Shiratorizawa’s worth can’t be measured that easily because they’re stronger than many university-level teams. Twenty-five percent is very generous for a baby like Karasuno, so it’s better if I say nothing. I won’t hurt anyone because I won’t raise their spirit too much. It saves me from troubles too.

“Eh, what’s wrong?” Tanaka can’t seem to let me go, so he comes to stand next to me. “Tell us. It’s not like someone will cry if you say zero. I just want to know your opinion.”

“Tanaka, what did I tell you? Stop bothering her about this,” Sawamura quickly warns the second-year and I let out a sigh of relief since among everyone here, the one Tanaka respects the most is none other than our captain. Before leaving me for good, Tanaka mumbles a few inaudible words, but I don’t care to find out. My eyes wander back down to some tall boys with pale yellow jerseys. I assume they’re going to be in the very first match of the day. I don’t know who they are, but I wish them well.

* * *

Because Kiyoko is on the bench, I watch the match between Karasuno and Ougaminami from above with Yachi. Some spectators specifically come for us, including Ukai’s famous grandfather and little kids who seem to know Hinata and Kageyama. Besides commenting about the great play everyone has down there, we don’t really talk to each other that much. Sometimes one of the kids will ask an adorable question about some basic volleyball rules and someone else will explain. At one point, Ukai’s grandfather asks about my condition and I tell him that I’m feeling incredibly fine, although I can’t become a professional player anymore.

Now I don’t mean to be arrogant, but I’ve seen hundreds of matches throughout my life and the view in front of me is very flat and uninspiring. Azumane manages to score a no-touch ace during his first serve and I feel proud because our training for weeks is paid off. Sawamura can receive any balls from any sides and he saves us from a lot of messy slip-ups. Kei can kill block almost every spike from our opponents and he seems to play with more finesse than usual. With Kageyama’s toss, everyone can rack up points with ease.

What else can I say? Ougaminami is weak, which I already expected after hearing how they could only score six against Shiratorizawa. I’d definitely see them in a better light if they could have at least fifteen, but six? Might as well not play and go home. Or change team, although it’s just a dream for them to be a regular in a promising team, even something slightly above average like Karasuno. The match between the two teams ends faster than the time my mother needs to bake a batch of chewy chocolate cookies. I have no more reaction but a couple of yawns out of boredom.

“Good job, everyone!” As soon as we’re downstairs, Yachi happily congratulates the boys. They thank her and smile like what an older brother will do to their younger sister. That’s what I often feel too whenever I’m around the sweet and bright Yachi.

I go to help Kiyoko preparing bananas for us to eat as we wait for the next round that’ll come in half an hour or less, depending on when our next opponent is done with their match earlier. Everyone seems to help themselves more than usual and I believe it’s because they aren’t in a sixty-seconds time-out where they need to rush back to the court as soon as the referee blows the whistle. All I have to do is remove the plastic casings off the yellow fruits and let everyone pull for themselves one by one. They’re forced to have at least one piece, so it’s sad for people like Kei whose hobby isn’t eating.

Not like I care.

“Eck?! Our next opponent is two meters tall?!”

My attention is taken by Hinata’s rousing announcement. Does he mean a Japanese high schooler who’s two meters tall? That’s not impossible, but I’ve never known one because even Lev from Nekoma is less than that. Personally, I don’t want to be near someone that tall since in volleyball, height is a powerful weapon. We aren’t sure about this guy’s play style, but if he’s really good, and precise, then we’re very unlucky and we mustn’t hold our hopes too high. We’ll just need to find another way to defeat him next year.

I stand up from my kneeling position and walk to the wide entrance where Hinata stands next to Kageyama, both cutely holding a half-eaten banana. I snuggle Kageyama’s right arm, making him glance at me as I search for the giant they’re inspecting. It’s not a difficult task at all to spot him, the tallest person around with a lime-colored jersey number nine. We aren’t the only people in awe. Even the judges, coaches, and other players appear to be scared of him. Some take a great distance—as if they’ll shatter if they bump against him—and some do a thorough study of his figure, from the top of his head to the end of his shoes.   

“He’s so tall…!” Right after he passes by us with his smaller teammates, I exclaim in a whisper. I don’t remember the last time I came in contact with an adult player this tall, but not only that, he’s also big-boned like Wakatoshi. I wish I was there to watch his entire match, so I could know more about him and make a mental note of how I can improve my own team. If he’s particularly skillful, then perhaps Shiratorizawa won’t even secure a place in the finale.

“How are we going to beat him?!” Hinata moans, cupping each side of his head to show how depressing our situation is.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Kageyama takes a good bite of his fruit. “We’ll just have to beat him, of course.”

“Easy for a genius like you to say!”

The setter phlegmatically shrugs as he gives Hinata a poker face. “I still don’t understand your worry.”

“What?! We must beat that huge guy next?!” Yachi’s the next person to comment about the news. I laugh when I see her being all meek and shivery, even worse than Hinata. Yamaguchi and Kei who are settling near her seem to have the same reaction as I do. Speaking of Kei, there’s only ten centimeters difference between him and that guy, but since he’s way skinnier, he never looks that intimidating. I’m not saying that him becoming fatter will earn us victory, but it’s always better than what he is now.

“Is he a spiker or a blocker?” Yamaguchi wonders to himself. “Either way, we need to think about a way to take care of him.”

“Two meters is freakily huge…” Hinata mumbles as he heads to the three of them with me, leaving Kageyama alone because he doesn’t seem to think about the possibility of not winning. In his dictionary full of volleyball glossaries, there’s only working hard or working harder. He doesn’t know the hardships of those who aren’t good in volleyball because he’s born with a treasure chest in his hands.

“Two meters and one hundred sixty-two centimeters…” Yamaguchi rubs his chin as he mentions Hinata’s height, as if Hinata himself hasn’t realized the obvious disadvantage between him and most volleyball players.

“I’m one hundred sixty-three if you round it up!” Hinata defends himself, sounding like he wants to bawl and punch Yamaguchi at the same time.

“Two meters and one hundred sixty-two centimeters… There’s a forty centimeters difference…” Kei pours salt to Hinata’s wound. This is an unsympathetic reaction, but I cackle harder than a minute ago. I just can’t help myself.

“Listen to me—”

“Forty-two centimeters, to be precise,” I chime in, not intending to bully Hinata, but this is merely a form of entertainment to make me and the others laugh. “Well, what can we do about it, Hinata? It’s not like we can bribe the committee and switch opponent. Let’s just draw a conclusion that our blocks will be useless for the next match.”

“How could you say that?” All of a sudden, Kei sourly asks me.

“Eh?” I furrow an eyebrow because I feel mixed by our sudden exchange that doesn’t feel right in my heart. “What?”

“You said that our blocks will be useless.”

“No, I was just—”

“Think before you talk. How would you feel if you were me or Hinata?” Kei cuts me off, smirking and making me feel awful over what I thought was a lighthearted joke. “Seriously, you shouldn’t be our manager. No, I mean we shouldn’t be a team you manage. We’re sorry that we’re weak and we don’t deserve an elite like you to be in our circle.”

“What are you talking about?!” I raise my voice, perhaps higher than it should because there are strangers around us that get startled by it. “Tsk. I don’t get your problem. Why are you attacking me? Are we even speaking the same language? Obviously, I was joking. Right, Hinata? I was just joking, right?”

“Uh, yes… I didn’t feel insulted at all…” Hinata chooses my side and he should. No matter how I look at it, I’m the right one here.

“Don’t be an idiot. Do you really believe her words? We can’t even be sure if she hasn’t told some other teams about our special training or new techniques.”

I roll my eyes. “Here we go again with the dramatic child. I only lied once and you act as if I’ve murdered your entire family. Maybe you should get your ears and brain checked.”

“It’s always the dirty ones who point fingers. Have you washed them this morning, just in case you need to spread another lie?”

I grit my teeth as I glare at the face that I used to deeply love, but really want to spit in now. “Whatever, Kei. I already apologized so many times. I even ran to you and I’d never done that to anyone before. What do you expect from me? Should I lick your feet? If you can’t accept my apologies, then it’s your loss. At least unlike you, I acknowledge my mistake and mean my words.”

“Says someone who kept lying for months.”

“Says someone who can only be jealous and not do anything to improve himself.”

“Hahaha. Jealous of what? Please stop creating fake scenarios in your mind. You really need a psychiatrist.”

“You’ll regret how you treat me after I die.”

“Here we go again with the self-centered tiara-wearing young princess.” Kei puts his hands on his hips, inclining a tad to the left. “Everyone dies. Why do you think your death will matter more than the rest of us?”

“You two should stop,” Yamaguchi crudely interferes us. It’s nothing surprising since he’s always been the one brave enough to stand between his two pigheaded friends. Unlike Kei, I don’t mind calling myself less than perfect. Unlike Kei, I won't hurt people’s feeling on purpose. Unlike Kei, I don’t mind admitting that I could’ve done a better job in handling this problem, but I failed because of my stupidity and inexperience.

“I’ll fill our empty jugs,” I excuse myself from the scene by walking away without looking into anyone’s eyes.

“Wait, don’t go alone! I’ll go with you!” Yachi stops me from moving any further, so I do halt my feet for her sake.

“…it’s fine, Yachi.” I look over my shoulder at the petite girl, grinning and giving her a thumb. “According to someone, I have a lot of boys to play with, so if I ever need a help, I can easily get a new one. You also don’t have to worry about me slipping and injuring my head because according to someone, I don’t matter.”

“That’s…”

I giggle as I continue my trip to where the team’s jugs are kept, playfully expanding my hands like I’m trying to balance myself on an unstable curb. “Ah… what should this cheap girl do to attract the hungry wolves? Should she flash her breasts or walk around naked?”

“Please don’t. People are eating.”

I click my tongue.

I’m not that heartless to wish Kei death like what he’ll gleefully do to me, but I wish one day he’ll become mute. The world will turn into paradise when someone like him has no chance to speak because everything he says is just a bunch of agonizing words. He really is good for nothing. He’ll never be happy with his life.

* * *

I rest my folded arms against the second floor’s balcony with the same spectators from before. My chest can’t stop hurting, as if there’s a needle that’s stuck inside and it needs to be taken out through a surgery. Maybe I should be away from other people because every time I hear someone make a remark about what’s happening on the court, I want to tell them to shut up and just keep everything to themselves. We all get it. We all have eyes to see. I don’t need them to tell me when someone fails to serve or to block or to receive because I’m not blind.

A moment later, I understand that it’s all just in my head. I was never like this. I never minded when people were ecstatic over a game because that’s one of the purposes why sports exist. I wasn’t like this half an hour ago, but right now I’m not sane, I’m not in my best mood. I don’t really want to blame someone because I’m so tired of doing that and not getting any benefit out of it, but it’ll be a lie if I say that Kei has nothing to do with it. He told me some horrible things and even when I tried to be tough, his words affected me. It must be obvious because Yachi asks me if I’m okay and I give her a nod.

Overall, the second match is more enjoyable than the previous one and it’s all because of the two-meter-tall guy who’s called Hyakuzawa by his teammates. He’s a spiker, but he’s also very useful in blocking because of his height. At first, everyone including the ever-so optimistic Kageyama seems to have a trouble and since I know volleyball more than anyone in this building, I can only smile. After his third spike, I notice that Hyakuzawa is a newbie who can only spike in one way, unlike what an ace should be. Most likely he’s just started playing volleyball four months ago.

I want to shout and inform my team about my finding, but then I realize that Sawamura has noticed it himself. I can’t hear what’s happening from up here, but during the first time-out, I believe they discuss about Hyakuzawa’s only strength and abundant weaknesses. From there on, the match goes on flawlessly. They keep receiving Hyakuzawa’s unchanging spike and everyone manages to find a way to score, either through a normal spike in or a total block out. I have to say, Kei’s been doing a spectacular job today. Perhaps it’s all thanks to the private training Kuroo has given him.

“Yay! We won! We did it! I can’t believe it!” Yachi can’t contain her happiness when the last point for our victory is scored by none other than Hinata, as known as Karasuno’s wild card. She hugs me tightly and I laugh along with her.

“I’m not surprised at all. I knew they’d win,” I react calmly to the hysteria beside me. I’m just being honest. I thought Hyakuzawa could be the person to take the trophy this year, but it’s proven that a twist of fate doesn’t come that easily. Now we’re officially heading to the representative playoffs in October with fifteen other teams. I’m thrilled. There’s no better word to describe my state of mind.

While we wait for our players to shake hands and give a supportive farewell to their opponents, Yachi and I decide to untie Karasuno’s black banner that’s been hanging for hours in front of us. It’s quite heavy because of the size and material, but the two of us are plenty strong to carry everything without any additional help. By the time we finish folding the banner until it’s compactable enough to be put inside a medium-sized bag, three-quarter of the spectators upstairs have already left the scene, still excluding Ukai’s grandfather and the kids who come with him.

“We did it! We’re one step closer to winning the entire thing!” As soon as he shows himself up here, Hinata hysterically yells with both hands clenched up in the air.

I zip the bag near my feet before standing up and showing everyone a smile, particularly Hinata. “Congratulations, Hinata. I thought that Hyakuzawa would give you a hard time, but he isn’t very experienced, is he?”

“Oh, you noticed that? As expected from you,” Sawamura says from behind the orange-haired guy.

“Yes. I knew after his third spike. As expected from you too, Sawamura-san,” I praise the captain back.

“Uh… I’m super excited. This can be dangerous for my heart,” Hinata tells me, now fisting both hands in front of his chest. “It’s just… There’s a chance of us facing Seijou and Shiratorizawa. Aren’t you excited too? My heart seriously is pumping so fast. I can’t wait for October to come. I don’t care about summer break, I want October to come soon!”

“Hahaha… Is that so?”

Honestly? I don’t feel anything different than usual, therefore I can’t relate much to what Hinata is currently suffering from. Is it because I won’t be the one fighting those battles this October? No. I know I can be very selfish, but I’m not that selfish. I was always fired up when my friends had a match of their own. I was always the loudest one cheering on them, even when I just lost mine. It must be because I’m not really in the right mind. My brain must’ve lost a screw somewhere. Before we get back to the bus, I must get a cold can of soda to freshen myself.

“Oi.” Out of nowhere, Tanaka nudges my side with his elbow. “Girl, tell me… If we face Shiratorizawa, will you stand on our side or his side?”

“What? Please stop, Tanaka-san…” I beg him tepidly. Just how many more times should I explain these nosy people that I dislike it whenever they bring up my relationship with Wakatoshi? Should I wear a shirt that says “I forbid you to mention anyone from Shiratorizawa”? The more I spend time with Tanaka, the more I know all the reasons why a delicate girl like Kiyoko will never return his feeling. Only the most patient ones will be able to handle the headache from being with him.

“F/N-chan, can you do me a small favor?” Kiyoko calls me, startling me quite a bit because I didn’t even know she’s nearby.

“Of course!” I allow her to continue.

“I forgot my book and pen on the bench down there. Can you please take them for me? Sorry for the trouble. I need to help Ukai-san with something.”

“Sure, it’s fine!” I swing my right hand several times, hinting her that she doesn’t need a page of explanation and apologies because I’ll be more than happy to do anything for her.

While I’m not in a rush, I still choose to run just because I want to. I pass by two adults who are chit-chatting, but also Kei, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi who don’t interact with each other. Seems like they’re too busy wiping their face with a towel to care about celebrating our status as t in the top sixteen of Spring High.

“Hey, don’t run,” Yamaguchi warns me and I chuckle because he sounds like a kindergarten teacher. Even Takeda won’t tell me this kind of thing.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for your—”

This is the moment when it feels like I watch my life flashes in front of my eyes and it didn’t even happen when I had my tragic accident and almost died on the spot. All I know is that I land my feet on something slippery and go straight down the stairs, sweeping at least seven rough treads with my thighs. I gasp when the left side of my body slams hard against the rock-hard landing. I’m glad that at least I finally stop rolling, but it hurts. My body burns. Like it’s being stabbed and ripped open with scissors and I’m forced to watch it happen.

Right after I’m aware of my situation, the only faces that comes to my mind are my parent’s. I’m not shy to admit that I want to hold their hands now because I’m very terrified to go through this alone. I don’t even know when and how I should take my next breath. It’s better if I just pass out.

“Oh God! Are you okay?!” Yamaguchi’s worried tone is the first I hear, but the one who grabs my hands is none other than Kei. I squinch my teary eyes up when he helps me sit because everything feels terrible. My chin, my shoulders, my ribs, my hips, both of my knees—are my bones still attached?

“Did you hit your head?! How could you fall out of nowhere?!” Kageyama inquires as he gets down on his knees beside me. Just like Kei, he tries hold me, but he draws back his hands fast. I guess it’s because he doesn’t know where to touch without hurting me.

“…i-it hurts,” I speak strenuously, attempting to shift my legs but quickly giving up. “Ugh… it really hurts…”

“It’s alright, I got you.” Kei carefully embraces my feeble frame and his caring words hit me hard. I instantly sob like a five-year-old, letting go of my pride and not caring about people’s judgement. I can no longer handle the pain I feel, but I’m also very touched by the tense look on his face and the trembling of his voice. He must be upset because I’m very reckless. He might also want to yell at the floor and socks for betraying me. I mustn’t be happy because we’re still fighting, but I am.

“Tsukishima-kun, bring her to the infirmary!” Takeda orders Kei from up there and I notice how my clubmates have gathered to witness my idiocy.

“Can you walk by yourself? Do you want me to carry you?” Kei asks me.

“It’s fine… I’ll walk…” I answer between hitched breaths. I won’t say this now because Kei most likely will get insulted, but I know that I’m too heavy for him. We still need to step down some stairs before we get to the first floor, so I don’t want to take a risk. If I should trust someone to do it, it’ll be Azumane or Ukai.

Understanding my decision, Kei helps me up, only a few seconds before Kageyama comes to my rescue after noticing my unsteadiness. I grip on the front side of Kei’s jersey like it’s the only way I can stand on my own feet—it maybe is. I’m sure I have bruises throughout my body that’ll sting until next week, but at least I’m not lightheaded or having a nosebleed. At least I know that I don’t need to go to the hospital.

“…thanks.” I smile at Kageyama, feeling his sturdy hands on my back. “My head and ankles don’t hurt, so… I guess I didn’t crack anything…”

“Don’t be too sure. Go check yourself and be very careful,” Kageyama says in a murmur. He doesn’t look less distressed than Yamaguchi and the rest of my clubmates. I suppose everyone has a hard time letting me go because they can’t keep their eyes off me. I should be fine.

* * *

Kei doesn’t want to let go of my hand. The nurse in the infirmary seems to understand why, thus she doesn’t ask him to. She does a simple check by pressing some of my body parts that I claim to be painful. I know it myself that my left hip hurts the most, so she gives me some instant cold compresses to be applied when I’m in the bus. She tells me that if it’s too much, I can get some over-the-counter oral pain reliefs, but there’s only a little probability of me needing one. The good thing about this is that I have no scratches on my feet because of my long pants.

“You must tell me when something’s off,” Kei demands me as we walk out of the infirmary side by side. If I didn’t fall, I’d care about the fabricated gossips that could raise from us holding hands in public. Good for them, what lies ahead of me is more important than any of these.

From far, I can already see our friends waiting for us—all the players have changed their official uniform to a normal white shirt and black shorts that they use for daily training back in school. They seem overjoyed when they see me looking alive and they ask me a bunch of similar questions, to which I answer with what exactly the nurse told me, no less or more. Kiyoko and Yachi are kind enough to bring me my bag and jacket. The former also apologizes because she assumes I fell because she asked me to get her book. I can only laugh to that.

“Tsukki, hurry and go change your clothes,” Yamaguchi kindly tells Kei as he hands him his red hand bag.

When Kei lets go of his left hand that’s been interlacing with mine, I unconsciously reach out for the same warmth, as if I don’t want to be separated from him for even a second. Realizing my foolish action, I abruptly release my grip, eyes darting down out of embarrassment. This isn’t like me because I’m someone who’s never concealing my affection toward someone, but do I need to mention the fact that we haven’t officially reconciled?

“You can go to the bus first. I’ll be back fast.” Kei brings his hand close to my nose and I squint to prepare myself for getting a pinch on the bump, but he gently caresses my left cheek instead. He leaves me wonderstruck as he heads to the changing room with his bag in one hand. Why did he do that? I’ll forever wonder about it.

Yamaguchi delivers Kei’s message to Takeda and in less than a minute, all of us have arrived at the lockers where we keep our shoes since this morning. Like a real princess, Yamaguchi offers to help me put on my sneakers and I promptly accept it. I can’t bend my body without hurting my spine, so there’s nothing much I can do. When I get my payment next month, I promise myself that I’ll treat him some expensive food.

“You should treat your wound when you’re in the bus,” Yamaguchi advises me as he fastens my right shoelace, his first one. “At least it’s good that your ankles are fine because you can walk normally, not limping.”

“Thank you for warning me before I fell. I should’ve listened to you more.”

“Shh, don’t sweat it. The fall had nothing to do with you not listening to me. It was just an accident.”

“…why is Kei suddenly being very kind to me?” Instead of replying with something related, my mind strays off somewhere. This thing has been bugging me more than my injuries, so I need to discuss with someone about it. Yamaguchi is my best option.

“Why are you asking that? Of course he’s very kind to you.”

I heave a long sigh. “Yamaguchi, come on… you know what I’m talking about… Just under two hours ago, Kei and I fought in front of you. We even fought when we were in the bus. I don’t get it. Does he have two personalities? Why is he suddenly treating me like this? Is it because I fell? Should I hurt myself on purpose the next time we fight, so he’ll forgive me?”

“I think he just can’t help himself.” Yamaguchi stands up right after he finishes his small task and stares right into my eyes. “I’d do the same if I were him. If you’re hurt, I’d set aside my ego and protect you. Nothing else would matter.”

“But that’s…” I doubt myself on what to reply, so I choose to keep everything I think about inside. “I see…”

Seeing no further comeback from me, Yamaguchi walks by, whispering a “come on” and I have no reason not to follow his lead. All the way back to the parking lot, I can’t stop thinking about his words and whether it’s applicable to my case and Kei. I know Kei’s not an evil. I know he cares for me at those times when I forget about myself. I know he’s never mad without a cause—although it’s often a senseless one. But dear world, I also know that I should still keep my guard up because there’s always a one hundred percent possibility of me lighting his short fuse again.

* * *

Kei enters the bus ten minutes after everyone else’s set inside. After exchanging some words with Yamaguchi, he walks to the back and sits to my left. There aren’t as many boxes as before, so he gets to put his bag beside him, instead of below like what I do all the time. He goes cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt as I start applying one compress on my left hip, lifting my top up and pulling my trousers down a tad to give myself a better access. The only one who can see me from here is Kei and I don’t mind showing my skin to him. He’s still a guy, yes, but he won’t have too many dirty thoughts like Tanaka or Nishinoya.

“How is it?” Barely a second after Takeda starts driving, Kei checks on me. “You should do your knees as well.”

“I only have two hands. I’ll do it when I’m home.”

“I’ll do it,” Kei says as he points at me. “Lean back and put your legs on top of mine.”

I ponder for a couple of seconds before questioning his unexpected courtesy, “…are you sure?”

“Just do it,” he gratingly orders me and since I don’t want us to quarrel during a gloomy time like this, I obey him. The first thing I do is transfer my own bag from the floor to the space on my left. Inconvenient, but I need something to act as a pillow. Next, I recline on the long seat and raise both of my legs. Kei helps me positioning everything until I feel comfortable enough. I watch him roll up my trousers that thankfully are very loose, so he can reach above my ankles without making them too tight.

“Careful,” I warn him when I give him two of the compresses that I’ve been holding since I was in the infirmary. Kei prepares the white plastic packages by squeezing then shaking them hard for three seconds.

“Do you think I’ll purposely hurt you?” he asks as he gently applies them on each one of my knees.

“Why are you so sensitive? I was just telling you to be careful. I didn’t accuse you of deliberately hurting—whatever. Think however you want.” I hold my head down and bite my lower lip because I know this will help me from unnecessarily whining.

I wonder why Kei can’t talk like a normal person. He always has a way to be mean when he doesn’t need to. I guess that’s what an antagonist of a story does, a role that fits him the most.

“You should call your parents to pick you,” Kei initiates another topic, but I mustn’t take this as a good sign. “It’s almost five p.m. on Sunday. The train will be too crowded.”

“Can’t. They’re working until eight… or nine.”

“Take taxi. Do you have extra money with you?”

“No.”

“There’s no money at your house? Then I’ll pay.”

“No, thanks. I’ll use the train. Many people will be kind enough to give their seat to an injured girl. I’ll ask for you too.”

“I don’t want you to walk too much.”

I curl my lips, heart aching without me being able to suppress it. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, I don’t matter.”

“And I’m the sensitive one.” Kei sighs and goes quiet for some time before proceeding, “Tsk. You’re so unbearable sometimes. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“No, I didn’t hit my head, but yes, you’re right about me being unbearable.” I lift my head, looking at him with a forced grin framing my unhappy face. “Everything is my fault. Everything is always my fault. That’s why I fell. Because I got my karma, right?”

“I’m not going to talk to you until you calm down and become normal,” Kei states and he seems to mean his words. He no longer wants to look at me by averting his eyes to the front. I choose to shut my mouth and listen to the sound of those who can’t stop discussing Hyakuzawa’s height. It’s not better this way, but what else can we do?

* * *

After announcing that we’ll get a holiday tomorrow, Takeda offers to drive me home. I refuse because I know that his house is on the other side of mine. One minute later, I regret my decision because the struggle I must take to arrive at the train station is like no other. If usually I only needed five minutes of walk, now I need triple the time because I can only move slower than a dying snail. Kei understand and he stays. He’s not someone that I’ll call patient and tolerant. There are many more things that he doesn’t want to do than what he does, but here he is, holding my hand and pacing himself to fit my short steps. He makes me feel bad for being mean before.

Just like he predicted, the train station is as crowded as it can get. It’s never like this when I have to go to Sendai at three or when I come back at eight. We don’t need to wait for too long for our train to come. We let the people out before we walk inside, still hand in hand. Fortunately for us, there are some empty seats. We waste no time to pick the closest ones to the gate. It’s not our usual place, but surely it doesn’t matter. Unlike what I used to do all the time, I don’t close my eyes to sleep and Kei doesn’t ask me to. Five minutes elapse in stillness just like that.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I tell Kei as I listen to the announcement that explains that we’re nearing my stop.  “See you on Tuesday.”

“I’m going with you.”

I tilt my head to the left, wondering if I heard him right the first time. “What?”

“I’m going with you. I’m walking you home,” he repeats his sentence louder, adding one more.

“…well, if you want to,” I give him a permission that he doesn’t need. We both know that he’ll do it regardless if I allow him or not. If I have to choose, I always like it more to have someone beside me. Not only Kei. If Yamaguchi or Yachi were here, I’d be more than happy to bring them home.

We stand up concurrently when the train stops. I provide people around me enough time to leave the train first and that’s when Kei positions himself in front of me, quietly preventing anyone who might accidentally collide with me. All these sweet gestures aren’t new, but after everything that’s happened so far, today they feel warmer. They mean more than those days when he bought me food from the cafeteria or waited for me to finish my manager duty so we could walk home together.

“Let’s go.” Kei gives out his right hand and the same as before, I accept it without any protest. We stride along the footpath of the hushed town, feeling the afternoon breeze against our skin. The situation outside sure is different than inside the train station—it’s like we’re suddenly being warped to a tiny village with a total population of twenty old people.

Then there’s a total silence between us. Kei seems to immerse himself in the old landscape surrounding us, while my mind is cloaked by the realization that I can’t rest tonight if I’m not sure about the status of our relationship. We’ve been speaking so casually and quite honestly, isn’t it weird that we don’t mention our fight? It’s good that we can forget about the past and move on, but isn’t this more like neglecting our problem? Other people might choose to let everything go without questioning a thing, but I’m not like that. I’m not raised to be irresponsible. I must know everything until there’s nothing left to be asked.

“Kei?” After being noiseless for almost ten minutes, I call Kei’s name. It’s kind of emotional since I haven’t done it for almost two weeks. Two distressing weeks, to be exact. I don’t mean to hyperbolize, but it’s like at last I’m able to walk after crawling for so long. I’m meant to walk, just like I’m meant to call his name.

“Hm?” He glances sideways at me.

“I’m just wondering… Are we good?” I pause for a moment to swallow hard. “Um, are we friends again? Like before?”

“I don’t understand your question,” he grimly responds before looking back to the front and I feel alarmed. I’ve brought this up, so I can’t just shake my head and drop this topic by telling him that it’s nothing.

Or maybe, I should just say what I want to say and get this over soon.

“But you should know that I’m doing all of these because I pity you.” Much to my surprise, Kei speaks more. “You fell really hard and you’ve broken some bones before. Any normal person would be frightened and would feel bad too. I’m a kind person, you know.”

“You pity—”

“I wasn’t planning to tell you until later, but here let me make it clear—I don’t want to do this anymore,” Kei crudely interrupts me. “This will be the last time I’m taking care of you. I’m not going to hold your hands or walk with you to the train station. When school starts, I’m not going to buy you your lunch. You can ask Yamaguchi for that. Since we aren’t that close anymore, you should call me Tsukishima from now on. Do you understand? If we were dating, this would be the form of me asking you to break up with me. It’s weird anyway for two people who aren’t in a committed relationship to be all over each other. Remember when Takeda-sensei scolded us?”

The first thing I do after listening to his long list of requests is stop moving my feet. He’s forced to do the same and when he stares at me for the umpteenth time, I release myself from his grip. The second thing I do is lower my head as I try to process everything.

In conclusion, he wants to cut all ties with me.

He wants me to forget the fact that the picture of us being happy together existed at one point. He expects me to not interact with him, even when we’ll be in the same school for three years. All because of what? Because I lied to him? Because I hurt his feeling? What would happen if we did date and I did cheat on many guys behind his back? Would he try to manipulate the world into hating me? Would he murder me by pushing me from the school’s rooftop?

I still want to believe that he doesn’t mean his words, but I’m mentally exhausted and I’ve done enough. I know there’s nothing more I can do and say. Just like what Kageyama said, anywhere we go will end up in us fighting again and again. I need to think five steps ahead and it’s better to end things now before it’s too late.

“Yes, it’s fine. It’s for the best, so it’s fine.” My voice wavers, but I hope I’m the only one who notices it. “No hard feeling, because I understand why. Our personalities just don’t match. We’re both stubborn and selfish. We are far from being mature and we’ll never learn to be one from each other. You hate liars like me and I hate idiots like you. Realistically speaking, we aren’t meant to be this close.”

“You’re right.”

“Yes. I’ll walk by myself from here, so go catch the next train.” I lift my head to see his eyes darting to the empty road in front of us, away from me. “Then… thank you so much for taking care of me for so long. See you on Tuesday, Tsukishima.”

Just when I’m about to take off from here, Kei turns around and enfolds me in a tight embrace. My breath is caught between my throat because I never expected him to do this. We’ve held hands many times, we’ve cuddled each other more than anything else, but as far as I can remember, he’s never hugged me this way. Before I can think of how to react accordingly, he carefully places both of his hands around my waist and brings me closer to him, as if it’s possible for us to melt into each other and become one.

“Kei, what’s—I mean, Tsukishima? W-what’s wrong? Hey?” I chaotically question him as I feel my heart soaring and my skin heating up, despite the mild afternoon weather of this town.

“Stop… I just… I don't—I can’t handle it when you call me that,” he whispers a remorseful tone and in an instant, my wall crumbles apart. All the hatred and displeasure I’ve been holding for weeks are gone, leaving me with only fondness and endearment. Why is it always like this? Am I really that weak? Goshiki was right when he said that Kei is being like this because I keep giving him what he wants.

But I’m just a little girl who doesn’t know any better, who treasures one undeserving guy with all she has.

“You’re… so weird…” Using both hands, I clutch on the back of his shirt, trembly and desperately. “You’re the one who asked to break up with me. Are you going to take back your words? That’s unlike you…”

“Shut up.” He rests his chin on my right shoulder as he moves one hand behind my neck and grazes the bare skin with a hint of hopelessness. “You shouldn’t have lied. That night you told me that there shouldn’t be a secret between us. I trusted you, but then you hid something.”

“That night you mentioned about someone who’s an ace when he was in middle school. You never told me that you were talking about your older brother and how he has scarred you,” I retort and I can feel his body jolting involuntarily.

“…Yamaguchi told you, didn’t he?”

“Don’t be childish and get mad at him.”

“…nah, I’ve been wanting to tell you,” he calmly admits instead and I thank him for not snapping. 

“I’ve been wanting to tell you about Shiratorizawa too, but the media did it earlier,” I finally say what I’ve been wanting him to know since weeks ago. “Kei, I’m very very sorry. Will you forgive me?”

“I’m sorry too.”

“I’m sorrier.”

“I’m sorriest.”

“I’m sorrier than your sorriesterest.”

“This is why you can’t get above seventy in our Japanese class.”

I laugh as I release myself from him, looking up at him after we have enough space to breath. “Kei, let me say it again. There shouldn’t be a secret between us.”

“There shouldn’t be a secret between us,” he repeats after me, which sounds more like us exchanging vows.

It sure is a vow, isn’t it?

“Then… should I start telling you my truth?” I ask, smiling as I get myself ready.

Kei gives me a long abiding look before he rocks his head once. “Yes.”

“Nanako is actually Wakatoshi,” I reveal without mulling over it and it feels wonderful. “I changed his name on my LINE because at first, I didn’t want you or other people to find out about us. You know why I’m scared, don’t you? You’ve witnessed how hysterical everyone can get when it comes to me and him. I also don’t want to taint his reputation. I always feel like I don’t deserve him. He’s so cool and I’m just… not as cool as when I still played volleyball. He should be with Niiyama’s ace or a sexy supermodel from Brazil. Not someone like me.”

Kei narrows his eyes, giving me a puzzled expression. “Why didn’t you stop contacting him then?”

“I can’t. He’ll be sad. I just made a mistake. I don’t want to go back to it anymore. I’m sorry. I’ll learn from it and I’ll never do the same,” I promise Kei and I hope he believes me.

“Does he like you?”

I shrug hesitantly. “Maybe? I think so.”

“I see. Is he kind to you?”

“When I first talked to him, I felt a bit uncomfortable. He’s just… strange. Coming to me out nowhere, trying to get close to me with a super stoic face. It’s bad. He’s not good with girls at all. Even someone like Kageyama could do a better job,” I recall how I started to get to know Wakatoshi two months ago. “I’ll tell you the complete story about how we started contacting each other everyday later, but answering your question… Yes, he’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“I see.” Kei takes a deep breath and exhales it harshly. “Besides the story about my brother that you’ve known, I have nothing to tell you. You know everything about me. Is there anything else you want to say?”

“…well yes, and it’s pretty embarrassing.”

“It’s fine. There shouldn’t be a secret between—”

“I lied about my weight!” I shyly shout, just because I just want to get through this soon. “My real weight is at least ten kilograms more! I’m almost the same as you!”

“What? Are you stupid?” Kei mocks me before laughing like he just heard the best joke of the year. “Hang on… Sorry. Hahaha. I can’t take you seriously. Hahaha. First of all, I never asked you about your weight. You were the one who suddenly told me and I didn’t say a thing afterward. Secondly, I knew you lied simply by looking at your thighs. They’re twice my size. They look like chicken—”

“Shut up! I’m done!” I stomp away while puffing my cheeks, but Kei runs after me and forcing our fingers to intertwine with each other. He can’t control his laughter as he keeps it going for so long. He even needs to cover his mouth with his unoccupied hand. If only we didn’t just settle our fight, I’d kick his groin until he cried to his mother.

* * *

The first thing I do when I get back home is change my clothes to a loose t-shirt and short pants while Kei waits outside the door. Once I’m done, I allow him to come inside, not forgetting to turn on the air conditioner and setting it to a high temperature so the room can get cold quicker. It’s been months since the last time he was here, which was last May. It was Sunday and he came with the intention to help me with my homework. We studied for fifteen minutes and spent eight hours watching Youtube videos. It was very fun, but I don’t think we can do the same today.

“Yue’s always sleeping,” Kei makes a remark of the white creature balling himself on top of the neat bed that I cleaned before I left the house this morning.

“Hahaha. I told you.”

“You should rest,” Kei urges me and I nod my head as I lie down on my back, picking Yue and placing him on top of my abdomen. The satisfaction I feel throughout my bones must be a sign that my body craves for this. It’s like there are professional masseurs who work their magic on my joints.

“Kei, you’re not hungry or thirsty?” I ask the guy as he sits cross-legged on the floor, back facing me. He drops his bag near his slender legs and he takes out his phone, most likely wanting to waste time playing some games.

“I’m a bit hungry, but it’s fine. I’ll get myself a drink from your kitchen when I want to. Do you want something?”

“I’m very hungry. Do you want to order food? Pizza? _Bento_? KFC? Yeah, let’s buy KFC,” I suggest him—which sounds more like a final decision. “But what do you want? We both know that you’re so picky when it comes to food…”

“Hmm… Maybe some McDonald’s burgers?”

“Hahaha. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” With my left hand, I reach for Kei’s silky hair and play around with the tips. “You like their burgers so much. It’s fine. Can you order online for us?”

“Okay,” he agrees as I reposition myself to sit on the bed, back leaning against the wall that’s beginning to get colder. I straighten out my legs and put Yue’s pliable body on my lap, petting him at least once every five seconds.

“Kei, come sit here with me,” I tell Kei and he shows his agreement by standing up and seating himself beside me. I right away hug his left arm and lay my head there. The mirror from the dressing table that’s located in front of us perfectly shows what we’re doing—how I look overly smitten with this tall good-looking guy. I want to take some pictures with my phone, but I know that’s a bad idea for two reasons. One, Kei doesn’t like to be photographed. Two, Karasuno won’t think twice to expel two underage teenagers who are intimately relaxing on the girl’s bed.

“You’re like a clingy panda,” Kei makes a comment on my behavior, but what I do is snuggle him tighter.

“I’m well-known for that, thanks!” I play along with him.

“Anyway, what do you want to order?” Kei shows me his phone, where I can see the pictures of more than fifteen variations of burgers. I’ve tasted almost half of them and I’ve decided my favorites a long time ago.

“One Gran Clubhouse and one Gran Teriyaki, please,” I swiftly pick.

“Two? Seriously?”

“Why?” I frown. “They’re fairly small.”

“Are you crazy? They’re fairly big.” Kei takes back his phone and begins tapping a few things. “I’m going to get one Big Mac and that’s it. I can eat one piece for the entire day.”

“I actually want Tsukimi Burger too, but maybe next time.” I ignore Kei’s vanity in regard to his smaller eating portion. He should be ashamed instead because even Yachi eats more than him.

“Tsukimi? Disgusting. You don’t put fried eggs in burgers, just like you don’t put pineapples on pizza.”

“It’s my mouth, I can eat what I want to,” I mutter, resting my head on him again when I suddenly think of something quite funny. “Speaking of Tsukimi Burger, it reminds me of your name. If you don’t like seeing me eat that, should I eat you instead?”

“The hell?”

I snigger when I see Kei’s flustered face in the mirror. “You’re thinking about something dirty, aren’t you?”

“Shut up. Be a respectful lady.” He raises the tone of his voice. “Seriously, I’ll stab your eyes with scissors if you speak this way to other people. I don’t care if it’s to Goshiki or Kageyama.”

“Aww, you’re so romantic when you’re being protective! This is so strange to say, but I really want to chomp on you now!” I impishly tease him and in return, he pinches a big chunk of my right hand. I squint in pain and slap his fingers away with a grunt.

“Now stop,” he says as he goes back to the ordering business on his phone. I can tell from here that he’s registering a new account before he can choose what he wants. I don’t have an account myself, so I can’t help him with anything.

“Kei?” It’s not even a minute when I try to grab his attention again.

“What now?” he asks without looking away from his wide screen.

“Hey, will you go home after we’re done eating?” I ask a question back.

“Why? Do you want me to stay?”

I shrug, tightening the way I cuddle around his long arm. He might be baffled because a second ago, I was a deviant and now I’m acting like a shy girl who’s trying to give a love letter to the person she’s loved for three years on their graduation day. Sometimes I too don’t understand myself.

“What does that mean?”

I raise my head and coyly smile when our eyes meet. “Nothing!”

“Well… I’ll definitely stay if you want me to,” he convinces me after being aware that he’s not going to get a quick affirmation.

“Oh, then okay.”

“Okay what?” he goes on. “I don’t understand if you don’t ask me properly.”

“Eh… I thought you’ve lost your begging fetish…”

Kei chuckles upon hearing my pure reaction. “Don’t phrase it that way, but I still won’t understand if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“Ugh, fine, fine, fine,” I groan, looking down at Yue and caressing his long tail. “Tsukishima Kei, please stay with me until my parents are back. There, done.”

“Okay.” He pulls back his trapped hand from me and uses it to flick the messy hair covering my forehead and ear. “I’ll stay until they’re home. I’ll stay longer if you want me to.”

My eyes rivet back to his handsome face as I enjoy the nice feeling of being touched by him. Once he’s done with fixing the way I look, I faintly smile and he returns it with a brilliant one. The heartfelt look in his eyes give me some sort of peace and safety. Is it also the reason why I stay?

All I know now is that words really aren’t the only way for us to share our feeling toward each other. Among everyone I’ve met, Kei’s the one that I think the world of. I like Goshiki too. I like Kageyama, Yamaguchi, and some other people that I call friends, but they aren’t Kei who has a place in my heart that no one else can ever replace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, this is the hardest chapter to write. I hope you liked it? :D


	45. Ascent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wakkun loves the reader 4evah. Will the reader love Wakkun back? Also Tsukki won’t be in this chapter rawr. :/
> 
> (im sad, throw some salt at me to keep the evil spirits away. idk its just some Asian culture uhhh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’VE BEEN HERE FOR A YEAR AND YAY 500+ KUDOS AND 300K+ WORDS!!! I wonder how many of you are still here? I hope for at least 3/4 because every time I post an update, I’ll get a lot of hits. :D
> 
> Hi, it’s Kohi btw! Please read [this](https://maki-mono.tumblr.com/post/166037502122/hi-its-kohi-i-changed-my-username-to-something) before proceeding. :3
> 
> Alternative title of this chapter is: **I Could Actually Just Write This in a Paragraph Then Move on to the Next Segment, but I Just Love to Describe Things so Much. Lol. I Can’t Wait to Lose Some Subscribers from #TeamTsukki**
> 
> Happy reading~

* * *

The coldness surrounding my bare feet is the first thing I notice when I open my eyes. It’s pitch black inside of this room, which means that somebody must’ve turned off the lamp because I can’t remember doing that myself. Then I realize that the blanket covering my body has strayed to the side and there’s Yue beside my white pillow, just half a meter away from touching my actual head. I let seconds pass before raising my upper body. My bones feel like they’re breaking apart. I’ve expected extra pain to happen a day after my fall, so I don’t really have any complaints to chant.

“Kei…?” I rub my eyes before inspecting every corner of the dark room, only to register from the clock above my door that it’s still six in the morning and that I’m all alone with only Yue and some mosquitoes buzzing near my ears. Of course. The only reason for me to call Kei’s name must be that I’m still half awake and he was the last person I saw before I headed to bed. Funnily enough, I can’t remember how and when I fell asleep.

After ordering our burgers, we spent time reporting about our missing days for about twenty minutes until someone rang the bell. He went downstairs with his own money—he forced to pay for everything and I gladly accepted—and he came back with a white plastic bag full of our dinner. I reminded him that we hadn’t gotten a drink, so he went to the kitchen to grab two cans of cola that my father kept inside the refrigerator. I was greedy that I wanted to take a bite of his Big Mac, but I knew that he’d allow me. He did. He also tasted my two burgers and I was more than happy to share. Besides, he paid for them.

He cleaned everything by himself when we were done. He crumpled the burgers’ paper wraps and threw them inside the McDonald’s plastic bag with our empty soda cans. Before he took out the trash with him, I asked him to grab me a bottle of ice cold water that he could do by mixing tap water and ice cubes inside the freezer. He agreed. He did everything for me without mocking or teasing me. It was a bit strange to see him treat me that way, but I knew he felt bad because I couldn’t move freely. I knew he did everything because he cared for me.

When he came back, I drank half of the chill bottle and put it above my nightstand. My back hurt, so I lied down on my right side, bringing Yue up near my stomach. Kei asked if he should go back to the floor and since I wanted to be spoiled so much, I asked him to sit still beside me. We talked again, mostly about our excessive summer homework. Sometimes I played with his five fingers that were put near Yue, sometimes he played with the strands of hair covering my cheeks. Often we smiled because I’d crack a lame joke about life in general and he’d retort with a clever one.

I guess that was the time when I lost to my exhaustion because I couldn’t remember anything after. But Kei must’ve been the one to cover me with a blanket and turned the lights off before he left the room. I know my parents would never do it for me because the only thing they do when they’re in my room is harshly wake me up or borrow a pen. I also notice how my jacket is being hung behind the door. I know I’d never do that because I always prefer to just drape it around the wooden chair of my study desk. Kei must’ve taken care of everything for me. I should thank and hug him again the next time we meet.

As soon as I gain back my entire awareness, I stand up from the bed with harrowing grunts after grunts. It’s not too terrible to depend on my two feet, but my left hip, left shoulder, and entire back are sore. There’s no medicine that can heal this in an hour, so besides taking a pain killer that won’t really do a thing, there’s no other option for me to fully relieve myself. Just like what Yamaguchi stated yesterday—it’s better that I didn’t injure my ankles, so I don’t need to be limping that much. I keep trying to be positive as I grab my phone from inside my bag, the one thing that I haven’t seen since last morning.

As expected, there are hundreds of chats from Shiratorizawa’s group, but there’s one obvious oddity that I just can’t ignore. There are twenty-seven chats from Wakatoshi alone. The last time he did something like this was weeks ago when I was in Shinzen and he thought I was pissed at him. I can’t quite recall how many chats he wrote back then, but it’s less than what I see now. Does that mean what’s going on right now is worse than before? Hurriedly, I open his chat and begin reading everything as fast as I can.

 _Wakatoshi_  
_I hope you enjoy your day today and please tell me everything about it later 12:36 PM_  
_12:36 PM_  
_I saw your match on TV with Tendou. Congratulations on winning 4:12 PM_  
_I promise I’ll buy you anything you want in Sendai Gymnasium’s cafe 4:12 PM_  
_Are you there? 5:46 PM_  
_What’s going on? Why aren’t you replying? 5:46 PM_  
_I hope everything’s fine 6:03 PM_  
_[Missed call.] 6:03 PM_  
_[Missed call.] 6:03 PM_  
_I’m worried 6:38 PM_  
_You should be home by now, right? 6:38 PM_  
_I just contacted your parents, but they didn’t pick my call. I assume they’re working. I already left them a message 6:44 PM_  
_I wish I had asked for your landline number because Goshiki doesn’t know it either 6:44 PM_  
_You’re still not there 7:21 PM_  
_Should I stop worrying? But I can’t. My heart doesn’t feel right 7:21 PM_  
_It’s unlike you to not open your phone for this long 7:21 PM_  
_I should sleep because I have to wake up very early tomorrow, but I can’t close my eyes 7:22 PM_  
_I really hope you’re alright. Please be safe 7:22 PM_  
_I can’t sleep if I don’t know whether you’re home or not 7:26 PM_  
_Should I really go to your house? 7:29 PM_  
_Your mother just chatted me, she said that she just called your house and Tsukishima Kei picked up. He said that you’re sleeping 9:08 PM_  
_You’re with him? Is he in your room while you’re sleeping? 9:08 PM_  
_Sorry, that’s none of my business 9:08 PM_  
_But I’m glad that nothing bad happened you 9:09 PM_  
_I’m going to bed and wake up at six, so please contact me as soon as you wake up 9:09 PM_  
_Good night 9:09 PM_  
_9:09 PM_

I’m speechless.

I don’t know how to react and feel about this, but I’m very flattered. I’ve lived for almost sixteen years with countless close friends, but no one has ever searched for me like a lost puppy, not even Goshiki. Now I’m very curious about the group chat, so I go there and skim through all the stupid mini fights between Tendou and everyone else. It’s not long for me to find the part that I have to read, which is none other than Wakatoshi uneasiness from not being able to reach me.

_Tendou_  
_Did any of you get a personal chat from Hime-chan? 6:39 PM_  
_Tsutomu? Eita-kun? 6:39 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Huh, no? Is something going on? 6:42 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_No, none. S_ _he hasn’t replied to my chat since last night even 6:45 PM_  
_What’s the matter? 6:45 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_She hasn’t replied to Wakatoshi-kun’s chat since she was in the group this morning 6:48 PM_  
_It’s been more than 8 hours, so he’s super worried 6:48 PM_  
_He even tried to call Haruka-chan and Eiji-kun, but they didn’t pick up 6:48 PM_  
_I think they’re working now 6:48 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_I see 6:48 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_He thinks something really bad is going on with Hime-chan 6:48 PM_  
_He wants to go to Hime-chan’s house to check, but I don’t allow him because it’s too late 6:48 PM_  
_He needs to rest soon, he can’t stay up for that long 6:49 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Maybe her battery is empty 6:49 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_She could be having a party with her clubmates because they won 6:49 PM_  
_Then maybe her battery is also empty 6:49 PM_  
_This scenario happens all the time 6:49 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_I’m 100% sure she’s sleeping in her room 6:49 PM_  
_She can sleep for 15 hours and wake up once only to pee 6:49 PM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_But if she’s really at home, she’d at least contact us to say a thing 6:49 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_I don’t think something bad is going on, Ushijima-san 6:49 PM_  
_Please calm down 6:50 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Yes 6:50 PM  
Don’t worry too much, Ushijima-san. If something happens, the hospital will contact 6:50 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Oi, don’t imply as if she’s having another accident 6:50 PM_  
_I shiver just thinking about the possibility 6:50 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Eh???_  
_No, but Ushijima-san must think of that right??? 6:50 PM_  
_Then what? She’s kidnapped and murdered? 6:50 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_   
_Oi… 6:50 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_That’s so uncalled-for 6:50 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_I’ll just shut up 6:50 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Tsutomu, you straight-up hit a nerve 6:51 PM_  
_Wakatoshi is even more worried now 6:51 PM_  
_Seriously, Hayato-kun is begging him to not call a taxi and go to her house right at this moment 6:51 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_How could you be like that, Goshiki? 6:51 PM_  
_She’s your best friend for more than 3 years 6:51 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Ushijima-san, please take a deep breath 6:51 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Why am I the wrong one now?! 6:51 PM_  
_Nevermind 6:51 PM_  
_Then try to contact Karasuno 6:51 PM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_I would, but it’s already too late, it’s almost 7 6:51 PM_  
_No one will be there 6:51 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Ushijima-san, you’re not serious, are you? 6:52 PM_  
_It’s weird for a random guy to call Karasuno only to look for their specific female student 6:52 PM_  
_I don’t think they even know anything 6:52 PM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_I’m worried, Goshiki 6:52 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_They can give the phone number of the club advisor or the coach 6:52 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_I know, but still… 6:52 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Wakatoshi, just wait for Haruka-san 6:52 PM_  
_We all know she never wants to work above 9, so she should check on her phone very soon 6:52 PM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_My heart can’t just let go 6:52 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Oh no… 6:52 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_It’s fine, Ushijima-san 6:52 PM_  
_She’s not hurt, I guarantee you 6:52 PM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_I hope so 6:53 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Okay, I just have to say this: I’ll cry if Hime-chan doesn’t marry Wakatoshi-kun 6:53 PM_  
_Mostly because I can’t stand watching Wakatoshi-kun in pain! 6:53 PM_  
_I don’t understand anything about love, but I know that what Wakatoshi feels is very pure! 6:53 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Tendou-san, she’s going to get angry when she reads your words 6:53 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Tendou-san, please distract Ushijima-san with something else 6:53 PM_  
_Watch funny videos or something 6:53 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_I’ve been trying to! 6:53 PM_  
_It’s so tense here, no one even uses a sticker! 6:53 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Yeah, I’m not going to joke around when it’s about someone’s safety 6:53 PM  
_

_Wakatoshi_  
_Are you implying that she’s not safe? 6:54 PM  
_

_ Kawanishi _  
_Okay 6:54 PM_  
_Now I feel what Goshiki felt 6:54 PM_  
_I’m sorry, Goshiki 6:54 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Ah… 6:54 PM_  
_I’m still shutting up 6:54 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Wakatoshi, she’s fine 6:54 PM_  
_Just get away from checking your phone and watch the TV in the living room 6:54 PM_  
_It’s not good if you’re worrying too much, okay? 6:54 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Drag him, Tendou-san 6:54 PM_  
_Yamagata-san too 6:54 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Haruka-chan just replied to Wakatoshi-kun!!! 9:02 PM_  
_She said she’s going to call the house now 9:02 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_That’s good! 9:02 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_I still believe that she’s sleeping 9:03 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_I can’t wait to know what’s going on 9:03 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Hang on 9:03 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_One hundred points for Tsutomu! 9:03 PM_  
_She’s sleeping in her room! 9:04 PM_  
_However 9:04 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_See?! 9:04 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_However? 9:04 PM  
_

_Goshiki  
9:04 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_That’s good, Wakatoshi can relax now 9:04 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_However, that Tsukishima Kei picked up the phone 9:04 PM_  
_Apparently, she’s spending time with him 9:04 PM  
Alone 9:04 PM  
At her house 9:04 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Eh? 9:04 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_Hmm, that guy 9:04 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Well, they’re very close 9:04 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_That guy again 9:05 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_Don’t be jealous, Wakatoshi~ 9:05 PM_  
_They’re just close friends~ 9:05 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_I think he’s good 9:05 PM_  
_Kind of 9:05 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Kind of? 9:05 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_He’s just glad that Hime-chan’s safe 9:05 PM_  
_Wait, I’ll just tell him to rest 9:05 PM_  
_He has to wake up at 6 tomorrow 9:05 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Good night, Ushijima-san 9:05 PM  
_

_Goshiki_  
_Good night 9:05 PM_  
_I’ll sleep too 9:05 PM  
_

_Reon_  
_I wonder what’d happen if she did get sick or something even more serious 9:06 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Ushijima-san wouldn’t go to the airport 9:06 PM_  
_He’d break his contract without thinking twice and choose to spend time taking care of L/N 9:06 PM  
_

_Shirabu_  
_We should prevent him from knowing 9:06 PM_  
_Tomorrow L/N will go to the airport, right? 9:06 PM  
_

_Kawanishi_  
_Of course 9:06 PM_  
_Ushijima-san won’t want to depart if she’s not there 9:06 PM_  
_In short; she has to always be there 9:06 PM_  
_If she’s not around, Ushijima-san won’t be able to live properly 9:06 PM_  
_9:06 PM_

_Reon_  
_That is adorable, but also wrong 9:06 PM_  
_Wakatoshi, you should focus on your competition, okay? 9:07 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_Sorry, he can’t reply 9:11 PM_  
_I snatched his phone and laptop so he won’t have a chance to open his LINE and contact Hime-chan 9:11 PM_  
_ 9:11 PM_  
_We’re putting him to bed like a big baby bear 9:11 PM_  
_Hayato-kun couldn’t stop laughing 9:11 PM_  
_I should’ve recorded the entire thing 9:11 PM  
_

I’m not sure if I should smile because Wakatoshi cares about my well-being or slap myself because I’ve made him worry too much. I clearly had the time to leave everyone a message or two. I wouldn’t lose anything precious if I spent a minute to write them a simple sentence that I was already home since afternoon. There’s no excuse that I can use besides that I was so into spending quality time with Kei until I forgot about everything else.

Then, an impending problem creeps in. Just like what Shirabu and Kawanishi were discussing about, I need to go to the airport in several hours and meet Wakatoshi there. Obviously, I can’t hide the fact that I have bruises all over my body.  A single touch can make me squinch in pain and I don’t need to remind myself that Wakatoshi likes to suddenly snuggle me without notifying beforehand. The question is should he know about my condition? If he does, then he’ll definitely be very shocked and outraged. He’ll be even more worried than when I wasn’t around last night.

Weirdly enough, Semi is the one who comes to my mind when I think about the person that I must seek a guidance from. Goshiki will worry as much as Wakatoshi, maybe only two percent less when he’s in the right mood. I’m not that comfortable with Tendou and Kawanishi because they’re more like the people that I can only have fun with. Yamagata seems nice and understanding, but I’m not that close to him because he’s never in the group chat. Last but not least, I barely know a thing about Reon and Shirabu.

So, it has to be Semi. It has to be him and no one else.

Without waiting any longer, I tap his profile from my friends list—he has a picture of himself in his classroom, looking incredibly handsome with a cheeky grin framing his face—and proceeds to open our empty chat since we’ve never conversated outside the group. I begin to type a few words as I hope that he’s awake by now and that his phone isn’t in the hand of someone else.

_Me_   
_ 6:15 AM Semi-san?_  
_ 6:15 AM Wherever you are, please don’t tell the others that I’m here_

I almost want to dance all over my room when Semi reads my chat in a flash.

_Semi_  
_Hi, what’s the matter? 6:15 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:15 AM Where are you?_

_Semi_  
_I’m in my dorm room 6:15 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:16 AM Why are you there? Aren’t you staying at your own house during summer break?_

_Semi_  
_I just came here 30 minutes ago 6:16 AM_  
_I wanted to check on Wakatoshi and the entire situation of this dorm 6:16 AM_  
_It’s a mess, let me tell you 6:16 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:16 AM Hahaha I can already tell_  
_6:16 AM_ _But anyway, can I call you?_

_Semi_  
_Sure 6:16 AM  
_

I waste no time in calling the guy and it only takes him two seconds to pick up. He sounds very cheerful when he says “hello”, as if he’s been waiting for me to contact him since the moment he woke up some time ago.

“Semi-san,” I spell his name with a velvety tone. “Hey, I’ll cut to the chase, okay? I can’t tell this to anyone else but you. So… yesterday when I was in Kaji Gymnasium, I don’t know how, but I suddenly fell from the stairs.”

“Eh?”

“Yes. It’s not that bad, though. I didn’t hit my head or break a bone. My body is just hurting.” I pause to chew on my lips, playing around with the dry skin on the surface. “And I don’t want to tell Wakatoshi. He’s going to worry. I want him to focus on his tournament. It’s going to be tiring there. It’s his first time in someone else’s country and he has many important things to do. He thinks too much when I don’t reply to his chat, I know it’ll break him to know about my condition. What should I do?”

“I see,” Semi responds after I come to a full stop. “So based on your sentences, I assume you know that he likes you?”

“Well… yeah,” my reply comes fast.

“Really? Since when?”

“Since when…? Uh... Maybe around the time when I went to Shiratorizawa for the first time? But even before that, he started to chat me a lot and follow me wherever I go. One day, everything just came together and I realized it.”

“I see,” Semi says the same two words as before. “Okay, I think it’s very kind of you to consider his feeling, but you have no other option. You must go to the airport and he’ll find out about everything, whether you like or not. You must tell him not to worry and that you’ll be perfectly healthy in a few days. I’ll try to calm him down too if he reacts more than that. But are you sure you’re alright? Did you go to the hospital?”

“No, I went to Kaji’s infirmary and the nurse said that I’m all good. I might need a painkiller if it’s getting unbearable, but it’s still okay. I’m not dizzy or anything.”

“Okay then. Now you should contact Wakatoshi. He’ll be very happy to hear from you.”

I faintly stretch the corners of my mouth. “I know.”

“But wait, how will you go to the airport? Will you parents bring you there?” Before one of us leaves, Semi asks another question.

“No. Today is Monday, so they’ll be working. I’ll call a taxi. How will you guys go to the airport? Will you walk?”

“No. My father will drive Wakatoshi because he carries a huge bag with him. I’ll go with them too, maybe with Tendou and Hayato. The others maybe will use bus. I don’t care, as long as they arrive at the airport,” Semi replies, yawning once in between. “Uh, by the way, have you gotten a birthday gift for Wakatoshi?”

“I have. There are two, but for today, I’ll only give him one. I won’t tell you what they are, but worry not. I’ll ask Wakatoshi to open it before he departs.”

Semi sniggers. “I can’t wait for that. Well, then… see you later. Don’t forget to contact him. If he hasn’t replied to you in a minute, just call me and I’ll go to his room.”

“Yes. Thank you for listening, Semi-san,” I say to him before he ends the call and I quickly move to Shiratorizawa’s group chat.

_Me_  
_ 6:23 AM Hi everyone, I’m here!_  
  _ 6:23 AM I just woke up!_  
_ 6:23 AM Sorry for not saying anything!_

_Tendou_  
_Hime-chan! 6:23 AM_  
_6:23 AM_

_Me_  
_ 6:23 AM I’m very sorry, I fell asleep so fast last night_  
_6:24 AM_

_Tendou_  
_It’s fine, it’s fine 6:24 AM_  
_Just don’t do it again because someone almost lost his sanity last night 6:24 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:24 AM Yes, I read everything  
6:24 AM I’m sorry_  
_6:24 AM_

_Tendou_  
_I just told him that you’re available 6:24 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:24 AM Please do, thank you  
_

_Tendou_  
_Oh 6:24 AM_  
_Hahaha, he’s looking for his phone 6:25 AM_  
_Hime-chan, count until 5 6:25 AM_  
_Your prince will come 6:25 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:25 AM Hm?_

_Tendou_  
_5 6:25 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 6:25 AM Wakatoshi?_

_Tendou_  
_Who else? 6:25 AM_  
_Wait, start from the beginning 6:25 AM_  
_5 6:25 AM  
_

_Me_  
_6:25 AM_

_Tendou_  
_4 6:25 AM  
_

I thought Wakatoshi would greet me on the group chat, but no. He calls me through our private chat before Tendou even finishes his short and messy counting. In a hurry, I tap the green button on my screen and press the phone against my right ear. I can somewhat hear him say “hello”, but it’s overpowered by so many other male noises. Someone shouts about a pair of socks, the other shouts about a popular brand of coffee being his favorite. I’m not sure if I know most of those voices, but let’s just assume that I don’t, since I believe that Tendou and the friends aren’t the only ones to send Wakatoshi off.

“Wakatoshi?” I call him, just to make sure that his focus is on our phone call.

“Please be quiet.” Instead of speaking to me, Wakatoshi appears to warn his friends. “Sorry, this phone call is very important. You can go outside if you still need to talk to each other.”

“Heh... Guys, just go outside. I’ll be here with Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou suggests with a muffled laughter. I’m sure it’s him because I remember his tone very well.

I perceive quietness for a good thirty seconds before Wakatoshi talks to me, “Sorry, I hope that didn’t bother you. It’s even louder outside because almost everyone’s awake, so I have to be here.”

“No, I’m okay,” I tell him. “Also, um…”

“Yes?”

“You’ll most likely say that I don’t need to do it, but I want to apologize. Sorry that I made you worry. I read the group chat as soon as I woke up and I promise I won’t do it again. I’ll always leave you a message. I won’t be gone for hours without saying anything.”

“That’s good. I just didn’t want anything bad happening to you. I hope you understand my feeling,” Wakatoshi genuinely reveals his ever so kind intention. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I did. I slept for almost twelve hours.” I smile, tightening the grip on my phone as the involuntary effect of his thoughtfulness. “Thanks for asking. How about you?”

“I did as well.”

“I see.” I stroll back to my bed and sit on the side of it. “Anyway, I already bought two presents for you. I’ll give you one today and I’ll give the other one when you’re back.”

“Why?”

“Just because I want to.”

“Oh, okay.”

I giggle because of his everlasting acquiescence of everything I say. “Also, I won’t tell you happy birthday before your real birthday. Some say it can cause you a year of bad luck.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s bad. Some already said happy birthday to me. Is there a way to break the bad luck?”

I cover my mouth with my left hand, holding back from losing myself because of his innocent reply. “It’s—uhm, it’s fine, Wakatoshi. That’s just a weird myth. I just want to say happy birthday to you tomorrow because it should be said on that day, not before or after.”

“Really?”

“Hime-chan, what did you tell him?” I hear Tendou ask me loudly, presumably because he’s right beside Wakatoshi’s ear.

“She said that I’d get a bad luck if people told me happy birthday before my actual birthday,” Wakatoshi tells Tendou on my behalf with a flat tone that shows how serious he’s taken this matter. It’s Wakatoshi, so I’m not surprised if he’s like this.  

“Hahaha! That’s not true, Wakatoshi-kun! Don’t believe things like that!”

“But Tendou, you believe in things like these.”

“Right, but for this specific one, just don’t believe it, okay? For the next ten days, you mustn’t care about other things than volleyball,” Tendou gives Wakatoshi a great advice, but also a jab to my heart. Seventy percent of me really wants to create a bad excuse of suddenly being busy, but thirty percent of me tells me that it’s one of the worst things I can do. Just for this one time, I choose to believe the smaller number. Besides, it’s already too late for me to walk back.

“Yes,” Wakatoshi complies with Tendou’s words before he goes back to me, “F/N, how will you go to the airport?”

“Oh, by taxi.”

“Taxi? Why taxi?”

“That’s—” I hold back from speaking any further, clearing my throat in hope to kickstart my brain too. I was planning to reveal everything when we meet because that’s when I can’t hide a thing. That’s all the reason why I didn’t prepare an excuse beforehand. No matter what other people think, for me now is really not a good time to tell him.

“You always complain about how taxi is a waste of money,” Wakatoshi continues, not even letting a second pass for me to think more.

“Uh, yes. I just don’t want to walk too much,” I answer without a single lie. In a way, it’s not the entire truth, but it’s definitely not a lie. I really don’t want to walk too much because I need to rest as much as possible, but I’m not going to give out the second part.

“I see—”

“Who put some cooked chicken wings in the refrigerator until they’re moldy and a huge batch of slimy soup that fell all over the place for probably days?” Out of nowhere, Semi is present in the room, asking questions and ranting at the same time. “Disgusting. Don’t you get it? Disgusting. Even the lowest rack is full of grease from I don’t know what. It hasn’t been a month since I left the dorm and the refrigerator looks like twenty people just puked in it. Doesn’t anyone here have some self-awareness to be tidy? What’s hard about wiping something? You can play volleyball for five hours straight, but you can’t spend fifteen minutes cleaning the place where you store your food?”

“H-hang on! Calm down, Eita-kun! I know I’ve done some unforgivable deeds in the past, but this time it’s not me, I swear! I didn’t even know that there are chicken wings there!” Tendou tries to justify himself and I wish I were there to see the expression he’s making. It’d be better than a clown.

“I haven’t opened the refrigerator for a week because I was in Tokyo and I also didn’t know anything about the chicken wings,” Wakatoshi adds his side of story.

“Okay, whatever. The bottom line is I’m not going to clean it again and again. Let’s just hope that no one will suffer from food poisoning and be hospitalized during their lovely summer break. That goes for you as well, Tendou, because you never cover your leftover food with plastic wrap that I specifically got for you to use, as if doing that is the equivalent to making a fully functioning android.”

“Eita-kun! Stop looking like you want to snap my head!”

“Then change!”

“But also, Eita-kun... Do you have to dress up like that? It looks so all over the place. Just wear a plain shirt and jeans like the rest of us.”

“Shut up!” Semi groans louder, but Tendou laughs and it makes me laugh too. Kawanishi should’ve been there to add fuel to the fire and everything would’ve been so much funnier. But maybe he won’t ever do it, since Semi is his favorite person.

* * *

There are two items that I bought for Wakatoshi from some online stores a week ago. The first one is a Brown neck pillow for him to use when he’s in a plane, which is what I’ll give him today. The second one is a Brown mug for him to use when he’s back to his dorm. I can’t give this one because I’m afraid it’ll break and I’m planning to make it as a congratulations gift, regardless what the result Japan’s going to have. I did think of buying the Cony one for myself, but I don’t have enough money and it’ll weirdly imply as if Wakatoshi and I are an official couple.

My struggle to reach the first floor of the house is the equivalent of hell on earth. Both of my feet must land on a single stair, not just one by one like usual. The pain in my left hip can be felt throughout my entire body and it takes a great willpower to not cry. I wonder if someone has created an app for phones that can record how many times I squeak the word “ouch”. It’ll be more than twenty times in a minute.

My father seems to worry a lot about my messed-up condition, but my mother complains in a way that she cares for me—she calls me reckless and stupid, but then she says that it’s better if I go to the hospital or rest in my room for an entire week. It’s funny and sweet. I never told them about my accident, but they know everything, which I assume is all from Kei’s mouth. If I were in his position, I’d also do the same to his parents.

After taking a careful shower and wearing a simple black long sleeve t-shirt and short light brown pants, my father gives me enough money to travel back and forth. I must teach volleyball this afternoon, so after going to the airport, I won’t go home. I’ll most likely go to Goshiki’s house or spend some time with his teammates around the town. I won’t plan much about what’ll happen then since there are so many things I can do once I’m in a big city like Sendai. I don’t mind wasting time in a café for five hours if someone fun is there to talk to.

Besides Wakatoshi’s huge present in hands, there are a few extra things that I keep inside my shoulder bag. There’s a wallet, a comb, a bottle of cold mineral water, a hat, and a pair of sunglasses. I know some people will grumble when they see me being covered in the last two objects, but there’s a one hundred percent chance of local reporters surrounding the airport. They’ll of course find out that it’s me and whatever, but what’s wrong with hiding my privacy just a bit? Celebrities do that all the time and while I’m still not one, I simply don’t want my far-from-attractive face to be broadcasted for the whole country to enjoy.

The trip from my house to the airport takes more than an hour, which I spend all on Shiratorizawa’s group chat because my driver doesn’t want to start any conversation with me, nor do I want to start one with him. After paying a large amount of money that thankfully isn’t coming from my own hard work, I leave the white car after saying thank you. Although it’s not as crowded as Narita Airport in Tokyo, Sendai Airport is still an international one with three floors and almost twenty restaurants and cafés that everyone can freely access.

Before I enter the gigantic building with walls made of glasses, I don’t forget to wear my glasses and hat, then open my phone to check on my LINE. It’s still around eight o’clock. They all said that they were scattering on the first floor, but apparently three minutes ago, they decided to move to Pronto, a medium-sized café that’s located just between the entrance one and two of the airport. It’s the most popular place here and the only one that serves Italian food, which is one of the best in the world. I’ve been there for at least five times and there’s one reason why—their quality is top-notch.

I walk forward and gasp upon passing the left automatic door. I detect some reporters standing near where people claim their baggage, so I try to act as normal as possible by casually strolling to the right, hoping that no one will notice me before I find a shelter. I see around eight to ten high schoolers chatting with each other in front of Pronto. I’ve never seen their face before, but I dare to bet that they’re Shiratorizawa students because no group of teenagers will just randomly be in the airport on Monday morning like now.

I exhale a long breath when I arrive at the entrance of cafe, feeling grateful that I’m safe at last. Those reporters must be waiting outside because of the unwritten rule that they can’t just enter a place where people shop, eat, or rest in general. From here, I can already hear so many loud voices and one of them is Tendou yelling about carbonara. I continue moving my feet until I see square tables of two being positioned in a long line next to each other. One side has a long black sofa that’s situated against the wall, while the other side has some wooden chairs that are a bit too small for male volleyball players.

The first pair of eyes that meet mine is none other than Wakatoshi’s who’s sitting on the sofa, then there are Tendou and Reon to his right, then many more people that I might have seen when I was in Shiratorizawa, but I don’t remember. Semi, Goshiki, Yamagata, and Shirabu are on the wooden chairs, so their back is facing me. Besides more than thirty boys and ten girls in this room, what catches my attention is also the food on the tables. There are countless of colorful plates of main courses and desserts, but also glasses and cups of beverages. I don’t even think five minutes is enough for me to count everything.

“Ah, Hime-chan!” Tendou shrieks, pointing his finger at me and making the entire place averting their eyes to where I stand. I thought Wakatoshi would be the happiest one to see me. I mean I could see the shift on his face, but Tendou wins since he opens his eyes bigger than cats can do and smiles wider than dogs can do.

“Hi.” I smile at the tables in the middle that are full of the people that I know before taking off my glasses and hat and putting them inside my bag.

This is very awkward. I wish people would just focus back on their own thing, but then again, what can I do about it? I’m that missing athlete who’s also known for hugging that Ushiijma Wakatoshi and both of us are in the same room. Sport reporters will kill to be here.

“Hime-chan, sit here! We’ve reserved a special spot for you!” Now Tendou points at an opening on Wakatoshi’s left. The other person next to me will be Kawanishi, so it should be fine. We haven’t really talked much face to face, but I’m sure today he’ll make me laugh once or twice.

“Hang on,” Kawanishi suddenly speaks up, fiercely patting and wiping the surface of the sofa with his hand. “There we go. It’s immaculate, just for our beloved princess.”

I cackle as the reaction to his unneeded and dramatic service. “Thanks, Kawanishi-san.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies before looking at Semi in front of him. “Semi-san, are you proud of me?”

“Almost. Now go clean your hands with wet tissues,” Semi nonchalantly answers and Kawanishi smiles at his favorite upperclassman, which I assume is an exaggeration. No one will be that happy when told to clean their hands with wet tissues. Kawanishi isn’t that creepy.

Carefully, I position myself on the place given to me, putting my bag between myself and Wakatoshi, but then I move it behind me. There’s nothing inside, so it won’t have an uncomfortable buldge that often annoys people. The next thing I do before doing anything else is give the present I’ve been holding to the big star of the room.

“For you,” I softly say.

“Hime-chan, why is the wrapping so simple? You should have heart pattern or something romantic you know,” Tendou begins to tease us as Wakatoshi takes the present. It sure it simple because I only wrap it in mint-colored paper with an addition of dark green ribbon on the left side of it. There’s no bow or any other decoration. I’m not someone creative with a talent to handcraft beautiful things with great details. I know nothing other than volleyball. I’m also not a fan of patterns like dots, stripes, or checks. I’d rather do it in a plain, but classy way.

“Thank you.” Wakatoshi tugs one corner of his lips to form the dimmest smile a human can ever give someone. I always wonder why he won’t just express himself like the rest of us, but I’ve accepted this part of him long before we got to this level of our relationship. I’m fine with the way he was before and the way he is now.

“Open it, Wakatoshi. I’m super curious,” Semi chimes in. I glance at him and he grins, perhaps hinting at me about our previous phone call. I can’t help but to send him the same grin back.

“Can I?” he adorably asks me for a permission.

“You can! You should!” Obviously, I allow him to. “Also for more information, I actually didn’t know what to give you, so I spent days searching all over the internet. This one I found on one online shop in Tokyo and I fell in love with it. It didn’t come with the box, but I must keep it there so it’d look neat.”

“Is that so?” Wakatoshi manages to rip open the paper and reaches a thick brown box. There’s no sealing around it, so he immediately opens the lid with both hands. I enjoy it very much when his face lightens up like a little boy who gets his first Christmas gift. It’s very heartwarming. I’ve never felt this satisfied after giving something to someone.

“How cute!” Tendou screams for the fifteenth time in the past three minutes. “Seriously, Hime-chan! That’s the cutest gift I’ve ever seen and it’s also brilliant because Wakatoshi can use it right now!”

“That’s one of the main reasons why I bought it. The fact that it’s Brown is the number one reason, though,” I inform Tendou.

“Thank you, F/N. I like it and I’ll wear this as soon as I’m in the plane.” Wakatoshi squeezes the pillow as he puts it on his lap. “Do they also sell Cony?”

“They do, but I didn’t buy it.”

“Then I’ll get you one for your birthday.”

I beam at him while nodding, agreeing without a word. That’s when he narrows his eyes slightly and grabs the hair draping on my right shoulder. He plays with them, running his fingers through the silky strands that I ironed for a few minutes before I left home. I let him do anything he wants as I try to think about what’s currently going on, but mostly about the eyes around us.

“We haven’t meet in two weeks,” he states after a moment. “I really miss seeing and touching you. Do you feel the same way too?”

“Hey, we’re in public!” I push his hand away. He quickly murmurs a succinct apology, but I know he’s smart enough to know that I’m being like this not because I don’t want us to be intimate. I don’t want us to be intimate when people are watching. It’ll be okay if there are only those from our main group chat, but three-quarter of people in this café are strangers to me.

“Hahaha, it’s okay. Do you know that you’re very popular in our school?” Reon shares something that I don’t care about. “People call you ‘Wakatoshi’s girl’. When we were in the dorm, some asked whether ‘his girl’ would come to the airport or not. Right, Wakatoshi?”

“That’s correct,” Wakatoshi confirms the truth.

“Eh… but I heard it’s ‘Wakatoshi’s other half’?” Yamagata joins the conversation after not minding a thing because he’s so busy slurping his green pasta with avocado and shrimps until it’s almost finished. He does this all the time, where he won’t say a thing because he’s so into his food or drink. Won’t it be better if he treats his phone the same way so it won’t go missing every single time?

“You mean ‘Wakatoshi’s future wife’?” Tendou asks since he obviously must fiddle with my relationship status when he has the chance to.

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Wakatoshi’s first and last breath’, ‘Wakatoshi’s baby pearl’, and ‘the only person who can make Wakatoshi check on his phone every two seconds until he gets yelled at by his coaches’,” Kawanishi adds and receives everyone’s laughter. Reon even needs to applaud him while I can only smile.

Five seconds haven’t passed when Tendou pokes the back of my palm that’s been resting on the table. “What about you, Hime-chan? What’s Wakatoshi for you?”

“Eh? What?” I frown, then I just shake my head in disapproval. “I don’t want to answer that. I’m going to get a drink.”

“Hey, no! Don’t run! What’s hard about being honest with your own feeling, Hime-chan? It’s not like you’ll lose a thing! This stupid guy will even love you more!”

“Hang on.” Semi stops me from standing up and fleeing away from Tendou’s questions. “Before you go anywhere, don’t you have something to tell Wakatoshi… and Tsutomu and everyone here?”

I broaden my eyes, feeling betrayed by Semi’s sudden decision to reveal the secret between the two of us because I didn’t see the picture of him saying a thing before I did it first. I will talk to everyone later, maybe in thirty minutes, maybe after we leave this café, but definitely not in a crowded place like this. There’s a big chance of Wakatoshi gushing about my condition and Goshiki thinking too much about injuries that don’t exist. It’s like watching another soap opera for free. I don’t want that.

“What do you want to tell me?” Wakatoshi questions me.

“What is it?” The same as his captain, Goshiki asks.

I place both hands on my lap, clasping them tightly together as I prepare myself. Also only for today, I curse Semi Eita and his pretty face.

“Please don’t think too much about it, okay?” I turn my head to Goshiki, then to the taller guy beside me. “I don’t feel really well. Yesterday when I was in Kaji Gymnasium, I fell from the stairs—”

I can’t finish my explanation when Wakatoshi widens his eyes bigger than I thought someone like him could manage. He looks like he’s having a massive panic attack. I scan the people around me and besides Semi, they all seem surprised by my confession, especially Goshiki. However for some reason, Wakatoshi looks scarier than any of them. Maybe it’s because he’s never been angry before, so when he does, I’m not used to it. It’s akin to seeing a tamed tiger roaring for the first time in my life.

“Wakatoshi, I’m okay!” I try to calm him down, but it just doesn’t work.

“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” he asks, facing me and forcing our eyes to be grimly stuck to each other.

“I’m… I should’ve. I know I should’ve, right? I’m sorry,” I say the only thing that comes in my mind. I even try to stroke his left arm and hand, but he stays stiff.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” Instead of moving on, he repeats his last question and turning me even more terrified.

“Waka—”

“Tell me, why didn’t you?”

“Wakatoshi, calm down. I’m sure she doesn’t want you to worry too much because you need to focus on FIVB. She can still walk, so it’s nothing critical.” Finally, as he promised, Semi comes to rescue. Though after seeing how Wakatoshi has become, I don’t think his help will be useful.

“Wait, how could you fall, even?” It’s Goshiki’s turn to interrogate me.

I shrug both shoulders. “I don’t know. I just landed on a wrong spot, but I’m fine. I only have tiny bruises. I didn’t get nosebleed, I didn’t hit my head, I didn’t hit any vital part of my body. I’ll heal in a week, I’m sure of it. I went to the infirmary and got checked. I’m seriously fine. I won’t die because of this. Believe me.”

“Only infirmary? You didn’t even go to the hospital?”

“Wakatoshi-kun, stop. You’ll ruin our happy moment.” Tendou grips his friend’s shoulder, attempting to lessen the stress and desperation.

The next thing that happens as Wakatoshi tries to compose himself is Kawanishi who nudges my arm. I look at him, raising my eyebrows to show that I didn’t expect him to call me this way.

“I’ll help you order your drink. Come with me,” he whispers before standing up and leaving through the small passage of the cramped place. I have no other choice but to follow him, making every effort possible to not bump against the edge of the tables. I wish that by the time I’m back, everyone won’t talk about this anymore.

* * *

“Are you sure you only want that?” Kawanishi asks after I get my original latte in a big cup. It does look plain and since this isn’t Starbucks, I can’t ask for any extra whipped cream on the top.

“Yes, I don’t want to eat pasta for breakfast,” I answer as we walk back to our table. Seems like Wakatoshi has continued eating his saucy spaghetti that has a lot of grated parmesan on it and the rest has switched to talk about other things, like their homework or funny things their friends did in class before summer break.

“Are you still waiting for your food?” Wakatoshi puts down his fork as soon as I rest myself beside him.

“No.” I place my cold drink on the table. “I’m only getting this drink.”

“Have you had something at your house?”

“No, nothing.”

“Then you must get something to eat,” he demands, voice becoming hoarse.

“But I don’t want to eat pasta...” I try to negotiate with him, but unlike Kawanishi who didn’t ask for more explanation because “I don’t want to eat pasta” should be clear enough, Wakatoshi looks upset and hurt.

“You should eat something,” he rephrases his previous words into something more intense and the way he glares at me shows nothing but disappointment.

“Wakatoshi, I’ll eat something later—”

“If you don’t want pasta, there are other options to choose,” Wakatoshi cuts me off and it’s probably the first time he’s ever done it. “They have garlic bread, salad, even pizza. Don’t you like pizza? Get anything you want, I’ll pay for you. You must eat something.”

“Ushijima-san, please stop. You’re frightening her,” Goshiki scolds Wakatoshi and I look at him, inwardly being thankful because I sure did feel under pressure for a moment there.

“Wakatoshi, don’t do that,” Semi adds this time, showing some lines on his forehead. “I understand you’re worried, but seriously… you’re being a bit scary now. Do you want her to run away from you?”

“No, Semi-san! It’s okay!” I stare into Wakatoshi’s uneasy eyes while clutching the short sleeve covering his muscular arm. “Thank you for worrying, Wakatoshi. You don’t want me to starve, right? I won’t. Have you forgotten how much I can eat? I’ll get some snacks on the second floor. There are a few things that I like. Really, thank you.”

“Really? But I’m afraid you’re not going to do it.”

I open my mouth to retort, but immediately withhold when Wakatoshi goes back to eating his food. He ignores me on purpose and it’s not like him to do this. He’s angry, yet I’m not sure if he understands his own emotion. But I’m not sure if I must ask since I probably won’t get the nice answer I want.

On the other hand, I don’t want to stand up and walk to the counter to order something. It feels as if I’m only doing it because Wakatoshi forces me to and I’ve told him that I’m going to get snacks when we’re upstairs. I suppose it’s better if I let the time heals his feeling as I begin biting my straw and drinking through it.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we decide to leave Pronto and move to the second floor, where the domestic and international security checks are located. Most of Wakatoshi’s friends have left earlier than us, some even say that they want to look around the airport to shop or simply sightsee because they’ve never been here before. I find their excuses to be funny since their school is just minutes away with bus and it’s not like this airport is fancy enough to be considered as a tourist attraction. The only good thing about this place is the many Japanese gift shops it has.

“The reporters are still out there,” someone notifies us when he comes back from checking the outside. I don’t know who he is and who asked him to be this understanding, but I’d love to shake his hands.

“Thank you,” Reon tells the guy as he stands up, pulling the lower back hem of his brown shirt. “Those people know that Wakatoshi’s here. Tsutomu, you should stealthily bring L/N upstairs, then some time later, Wakatoshi will follow. It’s just so she won’t look suspicious.”

Goshiki tilts his head. “Stealthily?”

“Hide her from them. Don’t allow them to take pictures, especially not when Ushijima-san is also seen.” For the first time in the past forty minutes, Shirabu lets everyone hear his sardonic voice. “Tsk, I can’t trust you, so I’ll go with you. Taichi, you too.”

“Hey!” Goshiki exclaims and Kawanishi laughs. That’s just about how different Shirabu treat both of them.

“Why are they still out there? I thought they already had enough interview with Wakatoshi? They’re actually nicer than the usual people we met, so maybe they won’t bother us this time. Maybe. Why don’t we just tell them to back off?” Yamagata naively suggests. If only he knew.

“The reporters from the TV channels have manner and professionalism, but there are those who work as a freelancer for websites. Those are the dangerous ones because they get money in exchange for hot news to sell. Like that one who took pictures of Wakatoshi and L/N hugging each other. I don’t think they’re here, but who knows? Maybe they’re hiding somewhere and disguising themselves as a normal traveler,” Semi states before directing his eyes at me. “Wear your hat and glasses again. You can’t run, so be extra careful. Hold Tsutomu if you need to.”

I obey Semi’s words by taking out the two protectors from my bag, then wearing them respectively. I carry my bag around my shoulder and say a warm “see you up there” to Wakatoshi and his friends before walking to the entrance. I think people surround me a bit too much because there’s Goshiki on my right, then Kawanishi and Shirabu on my left. This position somehow makes it very obvious that there’s someone they’re hiding in the middle of the circle, but I hope the beautiful Shiratorizawa girls around us will make the reporters set their sight on their presence and not me.

Through the darkness of my lenses, I watch the reporters who are at least twenty meters away from me. They look at my direction as they talk to each other, perhaps wondering if I really am the person they think about. It’s good that the escalator is nearby, thus before they get enough time to do a thorough check on me, I’m already moving fast up.

“You should get a food. Ushijima-san will get angry if you don’t,” Shirabu advises me when we arrive at the more populated place. It’s not entirely packed, but if there are only fifty people on the first floor, for sure there are more than two hundred here.

“I will,” I respond to him, still not feeling accustomed to the way he speaks to me. I remember how I used to think that he hates me because of my bad personality.

“He’s out of Pronto,” Kawanishi says and I look down there to see a pack of tall boys leaving the café. Wakatoshi drags his big black luggage and wears his brown backpack that I didn’t see previously. His friends look like his entourage minus sunglasses and guns, but aren’t I treated the same by Goshiki, Kawanishi, and Shirabu?

“Shiki-chan, come with me,” I tell Goshiki and he nods. We head far to the west where a store called Anna Festa is located—or actually, it’s more like Goshiki following me because he doesn’t know a thing about this place, even when he already went here before.

Of course, Anna Festa isn’t the only place that sells souvenirs. The overall price is the same as the other stores in this floor, but it has more items, including a few that I like. Today, I’ll get a box of Sendai Inarizushi and two boxes of mochi, one red bean and one green tea. I’ll already be full from the sushi, but I know Wakatoshi will whine if I eat only one thing. I too have told him a lot of times about my big appetite, so he’s going to bug me until next month if I don’t buy more.

“I wonder if you realize this about yourself,” Goshiki says as he checks on some _senbei_ on the multicolored shelf in front of us. “How you treat Ushijima-san has changed a lot. You’ve changed. You’ve become kinder. You used to get so annoyed at him and you didn’t really care about his feeling every time you spoke harshly to him. You still respected him in some way, but I could tell that sometimes you’re bothered by his approach. You never like aggressive guys who force their way into you. They creep you out, so that’s why I wouldn’t be shocked if you hated Ushijima-san after a week of knowing him, but instead... you two become close.”

“You’re right. I was creeped out by him at first. I feel really bad when I remember the times I called him weird and stuff,” I tell Goshiki while picking the same snacks he has in hands. I’m not planning to get one, but these are some flavors that I’ve never known before. There mustn’t be anything wrong with me wanting to read their ingredients and nutrition fact.

“Why? Because he’s Tohoku’s finest ace?”

I grunt at his phrasing. “You’re saying as if he’s a piece of art, but jeez… do you think I know why?”

“You’re not stupid. You must know why he’s an exception. My best guess is because he’s the Ushijima Wakatoshi. A lot of girls want to be close to him, so it’s not weird if you feel the same way, especially that he treats you like a princess.”

“That’s true.” I put the _senbei_ back to their place before looking at Goshiki. “If you know someone loves you with all their heart, will you have the heart to disregard them?”

Goshiki widens his eyes when he comprehends the meaning behind my words. “What?! You know he has a feeling for you?!”

I nod my head several times as I giggle because of the enjoyment I get from his staggered face. It’s hilarious.

“Since when?!” he asks the same question as the one Semi gave me some hours ago.

“Since I went to Shiratorizawa the first time,” I answer just like what I told Semi. “That night, I just thought about the possibility and the more we spent time together, the more I felt it.”

“You—don’t play with his heart!” he warns me. Okay I might have done it accidentally, but I swear I never meant to be rude and inconsiderate to Wakatoshi. If only I could turn back time.

“Why would I play with his heart? Do you think I’m that kind of woman?” I smile lopsidedly.

“You should know that Ushijima-san will still be there for you even if you hurt him so badly.”

“Do you think I’m going to hurt—”

“My point is that you mustn’t lift his hope and then leave him to be with someone else instead!” Goshiki curtly states, cutting me from finishing what I wanted to say while glaring at me. “If you like that Tsukishima guy, you should limit your interaction with Ushijima-san. No hugging, no holding hands, no kissing each other’s cheeks. He looks like has no clue about affectionate things, but he has a heart. He’s not a dumb person who’ll touch everyone and let everyone touch him. You should know this. I’m sure he thinks that he’s special in your eyes and maybe a part of him assumes that you love him back, or at least you’re still in the process to love him back.”

I become soundless for a moment before I open my mouth again, “He’s special in my eyes, but… maybe I will in a year or two.”

“You mean you’ll love him back in a year or two?”

“Stop it. I’ll pay for these,” I shush Goshiki as I go to the cashier, leaving him grumbling about my sudden distrust when he’s the person who I claim to be my number one best friend.

I just don’t want to lose myself in my own reminisce.

I think about the time when Wakatoshi’s face brightened up because I was nearby, when he got me ice cream and let me take it first before he did, when he contacted me to make sure that I arrived home safely, when he sat in my living room with Yue on his lap, when he told me to pass through a door before his, when he held my hands and looked content when I smiled at him—there are too many good memories between us. I should’ve fallen in love with him, but I know I’m not. I like to be around him, I find him to be pleasant, but love is still too strong to describe this feeling.

* * *

When I’m back to where the people are, almost everyone is present. I see Wakatoshi sitting alone on one of the large square seats in the middle of the floor with phone in his hands. Reon and Yamagata are busy with each other near the right escalator, Shirabu and Kawanishi are nowhere to be seen—maybe they go to the toilet together, which is cute—and Semi are surrounded by three boys who all look younger, but taller than him. Together with Goshiki, I walk to Reon and Yamagata, simply because they’re closer to us.

“Hey there,” Reon greets me. “You got your food? You should go to Wakatoshi. Talk to him and show him that you will eat as promised. I think he doesn’t feel like himself after what happened in Pronto.”

I nod and make my way to where I’m perhaps needed the most. I stand in front of Wakatoshi without making a noise and it only takes him two seconds to notice me. He lifts his head and stare at me with the same unflappable face he always has. I smile as I sit down beside him, our shoulders touching once again after only being separated for less than ten minutes. Somehow I care a little about some Shiratorizawa students who begin to check on what we’re doing.

“Who are you chatting?” I ask him when I see the LINE app on the phone in his left hand.

“My father.”

“Ah, what did you guys talk about?” I keep the conversation going as I slightly slant myself to read the small words written on the bright screen.

“Just that I’ll board soon and he tells me that I should be careful.”

“I see! Isn’t he the best father ever? He cares so much about you,” I can’t help but praise one of the most important people in his life. “How about your mother? Did she also say the same thing?”

“No, we haven’t really talked in weeks, but I left her some messages.”

“As expected from her, right? It’s fine. You aren’t that close to her to begin with,” I try to loosen his tighten heart, only if he has one. “Anyway, what time is it there in your father’s place?”

“It’s around eight thirty a.m. here, so it’s seven thirty p.m. there. We’re a day ahead.”

“Oh, so we’re… Eleven—wait…” I frown as I count some numbers in my head, sometimes looking down at the marbled floor, as if the answer is engraved there. “Eleven… right? No? Nine? No, it should be eleven. Eight thirty our time and seven thirty there, it should be… huh? What is it? Why are you looking at me like I’m making a mistake? Wait, am I making a mistake?”

He smiles. “It’s thirteen.”

“H-hey, don’t laugh at me! I’m still sleepy!” I let out an excuse. I can’t hide the humiliation, but also excitement since this is only the second time I see him smile in person. He might’ve done it before when we were having a video call, but experiencing it live like this can’t be beaten by anything else.

“It’s fine, everyone has their own talent. You’re good with many other things,” Wakatoshi soothes me, but he makes me pout instead.

“You’re saying as if I can’t count at all!” I give him a fake hateful look. “I’m in a college preparation class! You’re not, so I should be smarter in other things than you!”

“I don’t think so. Shiratorizawa is a lot harder than Karasuno, so I’m smarter than any of you.”

“Whatever. I’m going to eat now.” I open the plastic bag that I put beside me and take the box of _inarizushi_. “I’m not going to share my food with you even if you beg for a bite.”

“I won’t. You should eat everything.”

I grunt as I pick a piece with a tissue in my hand and just eat it like that. “Thanks, Sushijima.”

Then there’s a total silence. Wakatoshi seems to be dumbfounded by my last word, which was clearly a joke of his name and not meant to be taken seriously. I don’t need to explain why, do I?

“That’s not my name.” After some time, he murmurs while looking even more lost than before.

“Yes, I was just playing around by combining what I’m eating and your name. You should laugh along.”

“Oh, I see, but I still don’t find the humor in that,” he sternly answers and I laugh before taking my second piece. Isn’t it strange that he’s funnier because he’s never able to understand funny things himself? It’s like sometimes a joke is funny because it’s super not funny.

“When you’re in Paris, you should send me the pictures of the food you eat,” I propose an idea as I keep munching the saltiness and sweetness inside my mouth. My throat is getting dry, but luckily there’s a free drink fountain just several meters ahead of here.

“Okay. You should send me yours too. I need to make sure that you eat properly,” he agrees, adding another special request that shows a bigger kindness from his side.

“I do eat properly, you don’t have to worry. See?” With two fingers, I take the third piece of the sushi and eat it. He should understand by now that I never lie whenever I declare my love to consume almost everything. What happened before was truly because I didn’t want to have a pasta. There’s nothing more.

“I’m going to miss you a lot, but I’m glad that you’re here during my last moment,” he says and I turn my head to face him, swallowing my food even when it’s not well-mashed yet.

“Huh? Why are you speaking as if you’re going to die? Don’t do that,” I snarl, feeling a bit alarmed. As a wild imaginer, I don’t even want to think of anything bad happening to Wakatoshi. The world can’t be that cruel to us. I don’t want to take this as a sign of something that I still won’t say out loud.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not going to die. I’m sorry.” He lays his bigger hand on top of my right hand, squeezing my curled fingers and not worrying about the grease he might catch from the parts that have touched some sushi. “When I’m back, I’ll start bringing you home every day from Little Blasters. I’ll treat you dinner. The food in Paris will be great, so we can find the best French restaurants in Sendai. I don’t even mind going to another prefecture for that. Tokyo isn’t that far from here.”

“Good French restaurants are well-known for being expensive. You mustn’t waste your money,” I advise him one thing that I’ve said many times already.

“It’s not like we’re going to eat there every day. Maybe once a month?  I know how to save my money, you don’t have to worry.” Once again, he insists me to believe in his words as I feel his grip tightening. “I haven’t seen you for two weeks and even now, I can only be with you for two hours.”

“Hey, Sendai is only seven hours ahead from Paris, right? We can have a video call every time we have time. I don’t do anything during summer break besides helping my club and working. I can always make time to be with you,” I cheer him up.

“Seven hours is not good. It’s better if it’s ten to twelve hours, so I can call you before I go to bed--which will be the time you wake up--or the other way around.”

“Of course. You don’t have to worry about that. Nothing scary will happen,” I guarantee him. “Listen… Since my schedule isn’t as tight as yours, I’ll wake up earlier to pick your call. Just send me your complete time table and we’ll make everything work. At least it’s good that we have a smartphone and an access to Wi-Fi. Nowadays you can find internet anywhere you want. You can even ask your teammates for help.”

“You will?” he asks me. “Promise?”

“Promise.” I smile at him and in an instant, he turns into a joyful brown bear. I’m not sure if I can meet someone this loving in the future and that’s what I call scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait a minute!
> 
>   * None of you is allowed to call me anything other than my real name, unless if you want be to be angry.
>   * [Abdabx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abdabx) was the one who made a joke about Sushijima ~~Wakatofu~~. I laughed, then I decided to insert it here. XD
>   * Most likely I can only update this fic once a month from now on because I’ve been a mess. If you want to give me a hug, motivate me, introduce me to your rich single cousin who’s looking for a long-term girlfriend, or simply relate and feel bad, please go to my Tumblr and read my newest whining there. I’ve fixed all the mobile links because apparently for the past 3-4 months, none of you can access them. :(
> 

> 
> Anyway it looks like this:  
> 
> 
> Thank you for reading, see you again soon~


	46. Eventide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a pause before I get a sentence from Kei, “…do you want to come to my house?”
> 
> “Huh?” I frown since I don’t think I heard him right. “Say it again?”
> 
> “Tsk.” Kei rumples the front part of his hair, looking very nervous for no reason. “Do you want to come to my house?”
> 
> I study his face from one side since it’s somehow reddened and stimulates me to make fun of him. “Eh? What is it? I can’t hear you!”
> 
> He distressfully grunts. “I’m not going to give you what you want.”
> 
> I giggle, tightening our linked arms. “I’d love to go to your house, but it’s already too late. We’ll most likely arrive in an hour. How long will I be there—”
> 
> “I mean, you should spend the night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who hasn’t updated this fic for more than 6 weeks? Me. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> So the first draft of this chapter was 20k+. I wanted to separate it into two, but I just didn’t want to anymore (?). Then along the way, I made some changes and it’s become 15k+ instead.
> 
>  **WARNING: Some spoilers of The Last of Us.** (but I mean come on it’s almost 2018, you should’ve known everything about this game years ago ;_;)
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

Before he departs, Wakatoshi apparently needs to keep repeating his last message for me. He tells me to rest, eat, and drink as much as I need, to not forget to take a clean bath after my long day, to attend my team’s practice and work like usual, to text and have a video call with him every time we get the chance to, to finish my summer homework and other duties when I have the time, and right after he reaches his sixth reminder, I already can’t recall all the previous ones. It’s that many.

When he wants to hug me for the last time in a while, I run and hide behind Goshiki like a cat with a soiled past fleeing from a murderous stranger. People cackle, confusing him, but he understands when Reon explains that I’ll be too embarrassed because his fifty friends are staring at us. I claw on the shirt covering Goshiki’s back, peeking at the biggest guy around over his left arm. Instead of getting a bit irritated by my sheepishness, Wakatoshi gives me a soft look. It’s like he always finds endearment in everything I do.

“Take care of yourself,” Wakatoshi reminds me again.

“I know!” I exclaim while thinking that maybe it’s a good idea if I wear a helmet with a built-in surveillance camera that’s connected to his phone. That way, Wakatoshi can always check on me whenever he wants to. Extremely creepy, but at least he won’t twit like a morning bird because he’s only one click away from being sure that all my bones are still attached.

“Wakatoshi-kun, you’re going to be late,” Tendou tells his friend for the fourth time. “Don’t worry. We’re going to make sure that your beloved princess is safe and well. We swear on our life.”

“Yes. Thank you, Tendou,” Wakatoshi replies to Tendou, but his eyes can’t seem to be pulled back from seeing me.

“Wakatoshi, goodbye.” I sway one hand at him, subtly trying to send him off. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye…? Why a goodbye? I’m going back here, so it’s not a goodbye—”

“I mean see you soon! Now just go! You don’t want to be late!” I correct myself and make everyone around me laugh once more. I can’t handle it myself, so after a few seconds of realizing how hard it is for Wakatoshi to leave this town in peace for less than two weeks, I burst out giggling, shoulders jumping up and down with joy. I think I produce quite a weird pig-like sound because I still try to hold it back.

“Okay. See you soon.” Finally, Wakatoshi waves and walks to the domestic boarding gate, since his first destination is Tokyo. As the staff check on his papers, he keeps glancing back at us. Even when he’s stepping on the elevator to the third floor, he can’t seem to let his friends go. I won’t be surprised if he already misses all of us. It’s unbelievable how someone with a fearsome outward appearance like him has a heart as soft as a cotton candy.

It’s not long for the Shiratorizawa students around me to discuss about their next plan for the day. Most of them decide to just go back to the dorm or their own house, some decide to go to a karaoke center nearby, and those who I personally know can’t seem to think of something creative. I watch the others leave while we stay in circle like a group of tourists who don’t remember why they’re in Sendai. It’s good that the building is huge, so we don’t need to worry about other people who pass with a gigantic baggage in their hand. There aren’t many noisy children around either.

“Wakatoshi’s so complicated sometimes,” I grumble since no one really voices an opinion about what just happened. “I already told him so many times that it’s not common for Japanese people to display their affection in public. He can’t seem to understand that.”

“I guess that’s what people do when they fall in love.” Semi smile and Yamagata who stands beside him immediately kicks his leg, making the taller guy glare at the libero with one eyebrow titled. “What? She knows about Wakatoshi’s feeling.”

“What?!” Yamagata shrieks, followed by an indescribable expression from everyone, minus Semi and Goshiki. I’m then attacked by questions like “since when?”, “does he know?”, “why didn’t you tell us?”, and “how could you tell Eita-kun and Tsutomu, but not me?”. The last one is from Tendou, of course.

“It’s been a few months and no, he doesn’t know. I don’t want him to know because I’m not prepared to face the consequence. Who knows what he’ll do next?” I tell as I imagine how Wakatoshi will never act shy like normal teenagers. He’ll drive to my place and confess in front of my gate with a bucket of red roses. Maybe he’ll even give me a new car key as a token of our new relationship. I won’t know what to do if that does happen.

“He’s going to confess,” Shirabu accurately reads my mind.

“I think so too. Will you say yes?” Kawanishi asks on behalf of Japan, since the news about me and Wakatoshi seems to always become a hot topic on the sport websites.

“I don’t know.” I shrug and regret my response when I’m randomly booed by Tendou. “I don’t know! Let’s not talk about this anymore, pretty please? Semi-san, where are you going next?”

“…‘Semi-san’, ‘Semi-san’, always ‘Semi-san’…” Tendou mumbles, but I ignore him as I avert my eyes to my favorite upperclassman who’s constantly being gorgeous, even when he doesn’t do a thing.

“I’m going back to work,” Semi gives an expected answer. “I’ll call my father to drive us back. Do you need a ride to the train station?”

“Ah, no!” I shout when I get a brilliant idea, something that I should’ve done a long time ago. “Can I go to your salon? I want to cut my hair.”

* * *

When Semi says that I should sit in the middle of his father’s car with Goshiki and Yamagata while Tendou, Kawanishi, and Reon who are bigger must be in the back, I understand that he subtly implies the fact that I’m not as petite as Yachi. Not like there’s a problem because the car’s huge and there are only eight people inside, minus Shirabu who goes back home with the bus because he wants to study and finish his summer homework that most of us have chosen to forget. Semi himself sits next to his father, unless if the huge Wakatoshi were here to claim the place.

Semi’s father doesn’t speak a single word as he drives us to the south of Sendai, close to where the middle school division of Shiratorizawa is located. He has a short black hair and seems very healthy for his age that I guess is around sixty, although I can’t be too sure.  A thirty-year-old guy can look fifty if he doesn’t live a healthy lifestyle and vice versa. Seeing how he owns a busy salon, it’s easy to say that the wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes are the result of all the pressure from working hard for sixty hours a week.

It’s easy to spot a grey dominated salon from far, glasses surrounding the front part. There’s a “SEMI” silver name plate hung on the top middle of the two-story building. The closer I get, the more I can see some black styling chairs and people scattering inside. When I enter the place, everything becomes ten times better—I’m welcomed with beautiful yellow lamps, crystal flowers in vases, and a few grown-up customers who wear fancy clothes and seem to have a lot of savings in their bank. Semi’s family could be way more successful than I thought.

“There aren’t many customers during weekday mornings like this, so you don’t have to wait for that long,” Semi informs me as we walk past three female receptionists. “People here can choose their own hairstylist with different prices, except for my father who only accepts prior reservations. Do you want to check the list?”

“Well…” I look around me. “I don’t have any experience in an expensive salon like this, so do you have any recommendation? The cheapest one is okay, but if you give me discount it’s even better.”

Semi right away laughs. “Okay. Go sit somewhere.”

“Thanks, Semi-san.” I nod my head while Semi runs to his father who’s been inside minutes earlier than us. I choose to sit on one of the black sofas provided near the receptionist desk with everyone else. From here, I can see Semi talking to his father and sometimes pointing at my direction. Most likely they’re discussing about who’s going to cut my hair and how much discount can they give a poor girl like me.

“Hime-chan, do you know that Tsutomu got his haircut here?” Tendou asks, stealing my attention away from Semi 

“Really?” I respond. “It’s weird to think that all of you got your haircut here.”

“We always get discounts, that’s why. Sometimes it’s even for free if it’s not too difficult, like Wakatoshi’s hairstyle for example,” Yamagata explains. “How are you going to cut your hair, Hime-chan? It sure is long.”

“Yeah. It’s because I haven’t cut it in more than a year.” I grip a bundle of my hair, inspecting it. “It falls a lot too. I heard that having it shorter will help.”

“L/N.” Before anyone reacts to my story, Semi jogs back to us. “Come here. I’ll be the one cutting your hair.”

“Eh? Can you?” I ask, without any mockery lies within my tone. I’m only confused because from what I’ve heard, Semi can only style someone’s hair, not cut it. It’s not that I don’t appreciate his help, but I surely don’t want someone with no experience butchering one of the most important parts of my body until I cry for a whole week.

“Why are you doubting him? I told you, his fingers are magic,” Reon whispers from behind me, reminding me of what he wrote on the group chat some weeks ago.

I have no choice but to trust these people. There’s zero possibility of them pranking me, so I stand up, entrust my bag to Goshiki, and let Semi guide me to the hair washing area in the back of the salon. I recline on the middle seat with a small white towel covering my shoulders, allowing a good-looking guy in his mid-twenty to take care of my hair. He makes some remarks about my greasy and falling strands, while Semi recommends some serums and vitamins for me to take. I just agree to everything he says because I know nothing about beauty treatment.

Once he’s done, the guy wraps my head in a new towel of the same color as the previous one. This time, Semi brings me to one chair in the far side of the salon, quite away from the crowd. Seems like it’s useless for me to give my bag to Goshiki as right now, everyone has found a place on the empty chairs around where I must go. Unless if it’s over the weekends, these people will have enough time to be here for the next thirty minutes without getting kicked out.

“So… what kind of hairstyle that you want?” Semi inquires after he encases my body with a white cape. There’s also a scissor and a comb in each of his hand. The hairstylist for the woman who sits a few rows beside me has an assistant, but I guess it’s because she’s coloring her hair. Semi won’t need one for me, an easy task.

“Shorter than this,” I request as I stare at my reflection in the mirror in front of me. “Maybe just like when I was in middle school.”

“This short?” With both forefingers, Semi draws a line alongside my shoulder blades. It’s quite touching that he doesn’t forget the way I looked ten months ago.

“Yes… and I want a left parting. I tried it before and I look more mature that way. Also keep it long. I don’t want to have a childish fringe anymore.”

“Hmm, okay.” Semi starts combing my hair and I swear I can hear him gasp before commenting, “I’ve never seen hair fall this much before! You’re going to become bald!”

I sigh, while the others chuckle from picturing me having no hair. “I know.”

“Don’t you sell that expensive shampoo, Semi-san? The one made by ANGFA?” Kawanishi chimes in as he hugs the upper part of his chair and plays around by rotating it left and right.

“Yes, Scalp D. The 350 milliliters bottle costs 4,999 yen.”

“Ha, right! I totally will buy that!” I declare sarcastically. I wash my hair once every two days with a 700 yen shampoo. It’s also 350 milliliters and lasts for around a month. I’m not going to spend five thousand yen for the same amount of shampoo and I know my parents won’t indulge me.

“Hahaha, it’s a medical shampoo. The ingredients are chosen very carefully,” Semi tries to persuade me because this is all about business and not friendship. At the same time, he’s done dividing my long hair with some red hair ties that magically appear out of nowhere. My best guess is that he’s been wearing them around his wrist, but I’m not even sure why he’s even doing this. Is he going to turn me into Princess Jasmine?

“Nice try, Semi-san. Still not going to buy. Do you think my mother will give me money for that? I’ve been asking for a cat since I was little and she just got me one last month. My father won’t budge either,” I make sure that my commitment about not ever wanting to waste money is absolute.

“But it’s only for the shampoo. There’s also a treatment pack that costs the same, then the hair tonic that’s almost eight thousand yen. I don’t remember precise—”

“Stop it, Semi-san!” I roar in frustration. “You make me sad of the fact that I can’t afford them! Maybe in three years when I get a stable job!”

“Ask Ushijima-san, Ushijima-san will give you anything that you want,” Kawanishi sings out his suggestion, demonstrating his melodious timbre.

“No, thanks,” I keep refusing because Wakatoshi isn’t my unlimited bank. Just before I can think of something else, I see Semi bringing his scissor above the uppermost hair tie. In a split second, he snips the area smoothly like a knife through butter and surprises me.

How can he be this heartless? He doesn’t even tell me to prepare my heart or say my last goodbye.

“What’s wrong?” Semi evidently holds his laughter as he gives me a bundle of hair that can be used as extensions for the next _The Ring_ movie. “Here. As a keepsake. You’ve grown around forty centimeters in ten months. That’s rapid, so congratulations.”

“…thanks.” I halfheartedly take the scary dead object, staring at it and feeling dejected. I know I don’t make a wrong choice, but this is my first time having a hair longer than my shoulder. Or should I say, was. Because of volleyball, my parents told me to always keep my hair elevated. Back then, I was lazy and opted to save time by just cutting it short.

“Do you want a stacked bob?” Before proceeding, Semi asks again.

“Stacked bob?” Our eyes meet in the mirror. “What’s that?”

“Short in the back, long in the front. Just like Shiratorizawa, Karasuno allows their students to have uncommon hairstyles, right?”

“Well, yeah, but not too much… Not something like mohawk…” I correct Semi, but I assume he knows this all along. Most schools in Japan forbid their students from wearing any accessories, not even earrings or necklaces. Both of our schools aren’t that strict because we can even dye our hair, as long as it’s not with seven crazy unicorn colors. If I have to say, I think Shiratorizawa has it worse because I’ve never seen one person not wearing their complete uniform set from their tie to their shoes. Maybe they want to maintain their good reputation by making their students look well-kept.

“So you want a stacked bob?” Semi reconfirms.

“Sure, but just a little bit, okay? Or just do what you think is good. I trust you, Semi-san.”

“Okay.” Semi combs my hair with his long fingers before he starts cutting the corner. I can’t instantly say that he’s very talented because nothing significant has been done, but he seems to be very relaxed. There’s no hesitation in the way he moves and angles his scissors. It’s as if working in a salon is the equivalent to being a setter. It’s his comfort zone.

“Eh… Do you guys remember when Wakatoshi-kun trimmed his hair a few weeks back?” Tendou struggles to speak since he can lose it at any minute. “He said that he wanted to have a haircut like that Kuroo guy. You know, the one Hime-chan thought to be good-looking.”

Semi snorts, Yamagata and Reon nod their head several times with a broad smile, while Goshiki and Kawanishi look clueless. I hear Kawanishi ask about “who’s Kuroo?” to Goshiki. Since there’s no single story I haven’t told my best friends, Goshiki succinctly explains to his senior. Or it’s more like he retells a few praises I’ve said about Kuroo.

“Wakatoshi wanted to have a haircut like Kuroo-san?” I raise my voice then simper when I remember the memories I made with Kuroo during our training camp. “…Kuroo-san, right? Even until today, I still think that he’s the most good-looking guy I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s very tall. I love the way he looks and the way he plays volleyball. He’s very funny and sweet too. Not that I have a crush on him, but I do admire him. He’s like a top model.”

“Wait, wait, stop talking too much about that irrelevant guy! Hime-chan, why don’t you get it?!” Tendou squeaks with exasperation. “Wakatoshi-kun likes you a lot that he wants to be your type! You should’ve replied about Wakatoshi-kun and not made a long speech about how hot that Kuroo guy is! You like a bad boy, don’t you?!”

“Eh? Why would I like a bad boy? I want a loyal and gentle boy who doesn’t get drunk every night in a club and play with a lot of girls—”

“Argh! That’s not what I meant, Hime-chan! I was talking about appearance-wise! You should understand this!” Tendou looks extremely depressed, he might want to punch my nose. “Hime-chan, who’s your favorite Japanese actor?!”

“Mizushima Hiro,” I answer without thinking because in my heart, there’s only him. It’s been years and there hasn’t been one to replace this love I hold dear.

“See?! Bad boy!” Tendou points at my face. “And isn’t he on hiatus now?! Sad!”

“What…?”

“What about your other favorite Japanese actor? What do you think of Yamapi? Oguri Shun? Ikuta Toma! Everyone loves some Ikuta Toma!”

“Eh…? Well… I think they’re indeed handsome, but…” I pause for a second. “Well, I used to have a crush on him before Mizushima Hiro. It’s Matsumoto—”

“Matsumoto Jun?! Another bad boy!”

“Tendou-san’s right. You’ve always been like this,” Goshiki joins the useless conversation. “Back then when we walked somewhere, you’d always be like ‘that guy is so cool!’ about someone who looks like he has a wife and twelve girlfriends. I don’t know, that’s just you.”

“But their personality and background are more important than anything!” I scowl, defending myself.

“Really? Then is Wakatoshi-kun your type?” Tendou can’t stop himself from asking.

“What? I don’t know. Many people marry someone who’s far from being their type. My father isn’t my mother’s type, but they’ve been together for two decades. I won’t fall in love with Wakatoshi just because he’s my type. He’s so much more than—”

“Hime-chan, you’re blabbering now,” Tendou grimly interrupts me, somehow changing from being insane to being a professional relationship counselor. “I’ll just ask you… isn’t Wakatoshi more than enough? Will you be okay if he’s with someone else?”

“…this again.” I roll my eyes, letting him know my displeasure. “Why won’t I be okay? He’s a great guy. If he finds someone nice, smart, and beautiful, then I’m sure none of us will see that as a problem. In conclusion, he can do whatever he wants.”

“Seriously? You’re weird, Hime-chan!” Tendou grits his teeth, looking a bit irritated. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you! If I were in your position, I’d be head over heels for Wakatoshi-kun!”

“Will you…” Kawanishi speaks after being silent. “I wonder if you’ll be okay if Tsukishima ends up with someone else? Be honest.”

I don’t understand why Kei’s always brought to this, but I faintly shrug since I don’t want to disarray Semi’s focus. “It’s okay, but I must approve the girl first. I don’t want her to treat him bad.”

“How cute,” Kawanishi mutters, although I sense some disapproval in his voice.

I take a deep breath, getting exhausted by this recurring problem that—for Tendou and a few others—seems to be more important than war in problematic countries out there. I’ve never spent a day in Karasuno without everyone telling me to end up with Kei and the same as being with those from Shiratorizawa, I’ve never spent a day without everyone telling me to date Wakatoshi. I can’t wait to befriend a guy from one specific school and his teammates will also say the same thing. This should just stop.

* * *

“You’re so pretty,” Semi praises me after he’s done dry blowing and styling my hair.

I won’t proudly declare that I’m the best looking girl inside this salon—I’m clearly not and people who claim so are dirty liars—but I do look more presentable than usual. My fringes almost cover my right eye, but not too much until it bothers my process of blinking. When I position my head a tad to one side, the shape of my hair looks like it belongs to a professional model. Overall, I’m very satisfied with what I see. I wish I knew Semi since I was in middle school because I could look better earlier in life. Perhaps I could change my profession into an idol right after I got my accident.

“Hime-chan, can I take your pictures and send them to Wakatoshi-kun?” Tendou leaves his chair and walks to me with a phone in his hand. I nod my head because I don’t feel like rejecting his request and debating anyone over this. He’s also already preparing his camera, not leaving me with any options.

“Are you going to post it on your Twitter?” I ask while turning my chair 180 degrees around, kindly providing him a wide space to photograph me however he wants.

“Can I?”

“Only if it looks good.”

Tendou smirks as he stoops in front of me, tapping his screen several times. “You actually love to show off, don’t you, Hime-chan? Just smile. Show your teeth. You’re so beautiful when you smile.”

“As long as I look good!” I exclaim as I give Tendou what he wants—a dazzling smile that hopefully will match Semi’s masterwork.

“Yes, beautiful!” Tendou stretches the corners of his lips to accompany mine. “I don’t have many followers, Hime-chan. Only less than five thousand although I’ve been interviewed many times and I often post Wakatoshi-kun’s pictures. With this, I’m sure I can get a lot of new followers. That Bokuto Koutarou got a few hundreds because of you.”

I snigger. “So you’re using me as a promotion? How dare you? You should pay me in return.”

“I’ll give you Wakatoshi-kun’s full naked picture one day,” Tendou nonchalantly replies before handing me his phone. “Choose which one you want me to post.”

“Okay.” I take his offer and swipe through six pictures of myself. Two are me having a stoned face, while the other four are me smiling. They all look somewhat the same, but the last one seems to be slightly better because I tuck my chin down and sit straighter. Funny to think that a small difference can make me more beautiful.

“Yes, that one’s good,” Semi helps me decide. A moment ago, he stood beside me, but now he’s peeking from behind my chair. I can even feel his breath against my cheek.

“I think so too,” I say back as I return Tendou’s phone that shows the picture that I pick, then I beckon to Goshiki who’s been playing with his phone for ten minutes. “Shiki-chan, hey, give me my bag.”

Without delaying, Goshiki stomps forward and does what I ask. I thank him while opening my bag, grabbing my phone that’s buried under my wallet. I wonder if someone’s thinking of me. Maybe my parents want to know whether I survive the day without crying and complaining. Maybe my clubmates and fellow managers worry about me. Maybe Kei wants to know about how I feel today.

I’m a clairvoyant when I see some LINE notifications from Kei on my screen. Before now, I never pictured myself being enthusiastic to read his messages, thus I rush my fingers to open his chat. There’s a big probability I’m doing this because he rarely contacts me outside of school, not even during holidays. It’s as if he never misses me like I miss him.

_Kei_  
_[Missed call.] 09:32 AM_  
_Where are you? 09:32 AM_  
_[Missed call.] 09:32 AM_  
_[Missed call.] 09:34 AM_  
_Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping. You went to bed so early last night 09:35 AM_  
_Call me back when you’re awake 09:35 AM  
_

Kei is looking for me. Kei is waiting on me.

I waste no time in calling him back, pressing my phone against my right ear and hoping that he’s available after almost three hours not hearing back from me. My heart stops when he picks the call. I’m like a maiden who’s been dying to know about my fiancé whereabouts, since he’s joined a crusade and hasn’t sent me a letter for five years.

“Hey,” Kei greets me, sounding unamused. “Where are you?”

“Sorry, I went to the airport!” I tell him as I pray inside my heart that he won’t be pissed. He doesn’t own me, which equals to him having no rights to keep tabs on everything I do, but we’ve made a promise that we won’t keep a secret from each other, not even the simplest one.

“Airport? For what?”

“Today Wakatoshi’s flying to Paris for FIVB. I sent him off with his friends. Goshiki’s here too.”

“Oh.” His first response is flat. “How did you go there? By taxi?”

“Yes. Sorry for not telling you soon. Yesterday I completely forgot. Don’t get mad at me, please?”

“Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to apologize for things like that,” he coldly shushes me. “There’s noise there. You aren’t home?”

“I’m at Semi-san’s salon. He cut my hair.” I look at people around me and realize that they’re peering like I’m having a call with a president’s son. I must prepare myself for fifty questions they’re going to ask after I put my phone down.

“You cut your hair? How short?” Kei increases the volume of his voice because apparently, the state of my hair is very crucial to his world.

“It’s shoulder-length.” I pull the tip of my hair with my free hand. “The back is shorter than the front. It’s called stacked bob. I don’t think you’ve heard about it before.”

“Your face must look like a fishbowl.”

I grunt, almost wanting to ruin my hair by crushing it out of rage. “Thanks, but wait until you see it. It’s really good. Semi-san is really talented. I’ll send you my selfies. You’re going to love it.”

“LINE doesn’t automatically save received pictures in our album, right? Then fine, send as many as you want.”

“Hey! Rude!” My thundering voice shakes the room, but I don’t care because Kei deserves to be yelled at.

Kei laughs from the other side, always treating my reaction as his personal circus. “Are you going back home after this?”

“Uh… no.” I direct my eyes to Goshiki for only a second before dropping them to the floor. “I’m going to play at Shiki-chan’s house or somewhere else. It’s a waste of money and time to go back home and then back again to Sendai. I have my part-time job this afternoon.”

“…do you have to work? By the end of the day you’ll to complain a lot. I won’t be there to listen.”

“Pfft. Why do you assume that I always need you? I have kindhearted people around me, unlike a specific someone,” I indirectly mention my Shiratorizawa pals who have never verbally abused me like Kei has. Sure me and them haven’t known each other for more than two months, but the very first week I bonded with Kei, he already spelled some harsh words. Clearly, no one in Shiratorizawa will have the heart to do that to me.

“Wow, congratulations.” As always, Kei replies like he doesn’t mean any of his words. “I’m going to pick you up when you’re done.”

It takes me some time to digest Kei’s one-sided decision. “…are you kidding?”

“I’ll be there before eight.”

“Wait a minute—”

“Yeah, see you.”

I gasp to say more, but Kei ends the phone call in a flash. I stare at my phone, then at my friends who are curious about what just happened, but I go back to the bright screen that shows the long list of names who have been chatting me on LINE lately. Some I haven’t opened for days.

Kei wants to bring me home.

That Tsukishima Kei who doesn’t want to be bothered by anyone nor anything, who doesn’t want to sacrifice his time for things he doesn’t find relevant to his own growth, who doesn’t want to leave his room if he doesn’t have to, and I believe there are more things he dislikes about this world than what he likes. Yet, he wants to ride the train from his house to Sendai back and forth. It will consume two hours of his life, excluding the time of waiting for me to come out of my workplace.

“Was that your friend Tsukishima?” Tendou asks and I can only nod my head since I’m focused on typing a few words of affection to Kei.

 _ Me_  
_ 11:06 AM Kei~_  
_ 11:06 AM This doesn’t sound like you!_  
_ 11:06 AM Do you want something from me?_

 _ Kei _  
_Don’t be stupid 11:06 AM  
_

_Me_  
_ 11:06 AM Aww!_  
_11:07 AM_   
_11:07 AM_ _You care about me!_  
_ 11:07 AM I love you too~ ♡_

 _ Kei _  
_Don’t be corny 11:07 AM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 11:07 AM I’ll be waiting!_  
_ 11:07 AM I’m so happy! You should’ve done these kinds of things earlier!_

 _ Kei _  
_11:07 AM_

 _ Me _  
_ 11:07 AM Hahaha_  
_ 11:07 AM See you later, my lovely Kei~_  
_ 11:08 AM :3 ♡_

As usual, he breaks the flow of our conversation by only reading my chat. I wish I could be the one who does it every time we chat each other, but for some reason I just can’t. I always have a thing to say back at him. Maybe Kei’s just too interesting or maybe I’m just too soft.

“How smiley,” Tendou remarks, kind of sending me an unpleasant vibe. “What did he say, Hime-chan?”

“He wants to bring me home after my part-time job.” I eye my phone for another second and when I’m sure that Kei won’t reply, I lock and put it inside my bag.

“Your part-time job? Do you really have to go? You don’t have to, you know. It’s not like you really need money for something urgent. You can rest at my house in the meantime and I’ll bring you back home in the evening,” Goshiki suggests something very rational because he’ll never stop himself from worrying about me.

“It’s okay. I just won’t play that much. I know when to rest.” I take out my wallet. “Semi-san. Thank you so much. Can I pay now?”

“It’s fine. It’s free for your first time.”

“Oh?” I lift one eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? When’s the time limit of the offer? Maybe my parents want to cut their hair too.”

“Hahaha, no, that’s not what I meant!” Semi shakes his head. “It’s special for you.”

“What? No!” I squeeze the rectangle object in my hand. I know I don’t really use any products beside water, shampoo, and electricity, but Semi’s talent should be appreciated with money. Words like “thank you” or “you’re the most amazing hairstylist is Sendai” simply isn’t enough. I want him to get a drink or cookies because he deserves it.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Just pay back by promoting this salon to your schoolmates.” Semi winks and before I get the chance to keep declining until he gives in, he walks away with my used cape and towels.

I’m speechless.

He’s very generous, mature, responsible, and everything great that exists. Can he be more perfect than this? Whoever becomes his wife will be the luckiest woman on earth. Sadly, that person will never be me since I’m sure I’ll never see Semi in that way.

“Oh, by the way, are you going to the Obon festival? Last year we went there with almost all of our clubmates,” Goshiki starts a new subject as he reminisces about our middle school years. I rock my head once as an agreement to go again with him this year, although I don’t think he catches what I’m trying to convey.

“Obon festival! You two should go with us! It’s on the fifteenth and sixteenth, right?” Tendou declares, looking so excited about our unfixed plan.

“Oh, sure,” I agree without pondering too hard about it. It’s me with these people—what could go wrong? It’d even be better if Wakatoshi were here with us. The only one we can blame for this one missing piece is FIVB and their amazing schedule. He even has to spend his birthday in the airplane with people who might not know about it before the coach tells them.

“Hime-chan, are you going on both days?” Tendou asks.

“No, only on the fifteenth and… um, will it be okay if I wear my yukata from last year? It’s still very good and I don’t want to spend money for a new one.”

“Sure! Why not? You’ll look pretty nonetheless!”

I grin. “Thanks.”

“But none of us will wear yukata…” Kawanishi looks at Goshiki who hasn’t been able to talk more. “…or will you, Goshiki?”

“Huh? I won’t if none of the boys wear one!” Goshiki growls.

“But your best friend will be alone.”

“So what? She’s also the only girl among us.”

“But you two are the cutest. You should wear blue, she’ll wear pink. Or do you want to wear pink too?”

Goshiki blushes, either from anger or embarrassment. “Stop it, Kawanishi-san!”

* * *

Everyone separates ways once they leave Semi’s salon, with Semi having to stay since he must continue working for his father. As planned by me before, I head to Goshiki’s empty house. Both of his parents have always had a full-time job from nine until five and often seven, so it’s nothing new for him to be alone for almost the whole day.

I spend time in his room, watching anime and videos together, then switching to talking about many stories from our colorful past, funny present, and vague future. Sometimes he’ll ask about my relationship with Wakatoshi, but I just smile and refuse to make a detailed comment about it. People seem to think that Wakatoshi and I have changed, simply because now they know that I’m aware of his special feeling toward me.

There’s a short message from Wakatoshi, just informing me that he’s arrived in Tokyo and he’ll fly to Paris at one p.m. The trip will be nonstop for twelve hours. He feels bad for not being able to have a phone call with me because he’s surrounded by too many people, including the media. Maybe I shouldn’t chuckle because Goshiki misunderstands and thinks that there’s more to my thought. I just don’t see why Wakatoshi has to feel bad for being busy. If I were in his position, I wouldn’t even remember checking my phone.

When it’s almost four, Goshiki brings me to the bus station near his house. My ride to Little Blasters takes less than five minutes, making me think that maybe I can save money by walking. Once I’m there, I share my condition with those who need to know. They all tell me to take a day off, but the first kid that I need to teach has already arrived, so I beg everyone to let me work. They eventually do and four hours miraculously pass without me having to moan out of pain every five seconds or so.

Obviously, it’s dark outside when I’m done. After saying goodbye to Fukuda behind the receptionist desk, I leave the place while opening my phone. There are some messages from Kei, mainly telling me that he’s waiting on one of the benches near the parking lot. It should be only less than twenty meters from here. I wonder why he can’t be like a hero from a teenage love story, where he’ll just wait in front of the door with a smile framing his handsome face. It’s distressing to realize how he is never a prince charming to begin with.

“I really thought he was a model!”

I’ve only taken three steps away from Little Blasters when I pass by several girls who stand under an old tree. They all look older than me, maybe by five to ten years. They wear tight and minimalistic clothes that’ll make any traditional-minded parents shed a bucket of tears, but even if this place isn’t as free and wild as bigger cities like Tokyo, there are still some nightclubs and bars that many people enjoy from time to time. These girls are definitely going to one of them tonight.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone that tall and good-looking at the same time. It’s such a pity that he already has a girlfriend, but then again, of course someone like him already has a girlfriend,” another girl adds, quieter since our distance is greater than a few seconds ago.

I feel like a mean girl for having to hold my laughter, all because I know they’re talking about Kei. The similar conversation has happened several times with people from our school or the strangers we meet on the street. That’s why I’m very optimistic about my prediction. I’m even more sure when I see the said guy sitting on a bench for two with one long leg propping on the other. He wears a dark brown jacket with a lighter hoodie that doesn’t suit the weather we’re currently having. Even by not doing anything, he looks breathtaking. I don’t know who in the world won’t feel blessed when they can look straight into his eyes.

“Hey, you’re so handsome,” I begin teasing when I’m only less than five meters away from Kei, making him lift his head. “Are you free? Are you waiting for someone?”

He doesn’t reply. Or most likely, he doesn’t know what to reply. His face looks like he’s so tired of my absurdity, but it’s not like I’ll stop messing around.

“Want to grab a drink with me?” I continue, as if I don’t look underage at all.

“Sorry.” Unlike before, Kei immediately answers. “I have a girlfriend.”

I put on a fake disappointed face. “Oh really? That’s bad. You’re my type. Just break up with your girlfriend, I bet she’s not that good anyway. I can do better.”

Kei chuckles, putting his elevated leg down. “Sorry. She’s going to cry if I leave her.”

I’m a bit moved by his reply, but I set the feeling aside and carry on, “How adorable… She’s lucky to have you because you love her that much.”

“I hope so,” he ambiguously says. “You have a short hair and I’m not a fan of that. The last time I saw my girlfriend, she had a long hair. Let’s hope she still has it the same, because if not, then… I have a great idea. How if you just give me your LINE ID? I’ll contact you when—”

“What’s wrong with you?!” I snap, forgetting the fact that we’re in the middle of an impromptu theater. “So what if I have a short hair?! Why will you break up with me just because of that?! You seriously can’t love someone for who they are, can you?!”

Harder than usual, Kei laughs as he arises from the bench, hands going inside his pockets. “It’s so fun taunting you.”

“Shut up!” I pout, averting my eyes in anger. “I’m hungry, let’s go home! If you want to look around the town, then do it alone!”

“Why are you so sensitive? It’s still a few weeks before that time of the month.”

“Shut up—” I stop mouthing when from the corner of my eyes, I watch Kei taking off his jacket, then offering me the heavy piece of clothing. So many questions come into my mind, but the number one is the reason why he’s doing this. Even if it’s in the evening, summer in Miyagi is at least warm, hence there’s no use for a jacket. If I could, I would just walk around with a thin towel.

“What?” Kei looks bothered by my stillness. “Don’t go imagining things that don’t exist. You don’t want people to see us together, do you? We’re in Sendai, not in our dead town. What’ll people say if they find out you’re going out with more than one boy?”

“Yes, thanks, although I disagree with the term ‘going out’.” I hold his jacket with one hand and wear it. Quite honestly, it’s my first time wearing his cloth since I’ve always had my own manager jacket to protect me from any kinds of things.

Kei isn’t as bulky as other volleyball players around me, but he’s still bigger than most Japanese girls. The sleeves of his jacket go beyond my arms and I might need to roll the hem up three times to make it fit around my wrists. I won’t talk about the bottom part that reaches way below my hips and the overall looseness that makes me look like I’m hiding my pregnancy from my school.

“Hehe, I’m draped in your clothes,” I reflect on my own my appearance, smiling at Kei. He stares back at me with a pair of eyes that seem to spark more than what I can understand. Does he find another silly amusement in the way I look? Is he going to mock me in the count of three?

“Yeah.” Much to my surprise, he brings himself close, lifts the hoodie of my jacket, and covers my head with it. “Now you’re good to go.”

Kei walks away before I’m well-prepared to leave, forcing me to follow him from behind. It’s not even two meters away from where we stood previously when I dash and encircle my hand around his arm. He doesn’t say a thing, only a glance at my face and then back at the road ahead of us. It’s empty. There are only a few people who might be heading to their car in the parking lot. There are also those who just arrived and intend to go somewhere. There’s nothing much to sightsee in a place like this.

An antique shop’s wall made from glass that reflects my face makes me think of what Kei’s said previously, so I give him one question, “Kei, do I really look bad with a short hair?”

“Why are you insecure?” Kei asks me back.

I heave a gloomy sigh, still eyeing myself. “Is it wrong if I want to look pretty? You’re one of the most handsome boys in our school, so I want us to look balanced.”

“Why do you care?”

“You’re never called ugly, that’s why you can’t understand my feeling.”

“Who called you ugly? The girls that stalk me?”

I click my tongue. “Never mind. I’m stupid for expecting you to call me beautiful.”

“Hahaha. Too bad for you.”

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, aren’t we going to get something while we’re here? I told you I’m hungry,” I grumble as I use my head to filter the names of restaurants and food stalls around here. “To save money, I suppose it’s better if we buy a bread or _takoyaki_. I can have dinner when I’m home.”

There’s a pause before I get a sentence from Kei, “…do you want to come to my house?”

“Huh?” I frown since I don’t think I heard him right. “Say it again?”

“Tsk.” Kei rumples the front part of his hair, looking very nervous for no reason. “Do you want to come to my house?”

I study his face from one side since it’s somehow reddened and stimulates me to make fun of him. “Eh? What is it? I can’t hear you!”

He distressfully grunts. “I’m not going to give you what you want.”

I giggle, tightening our linked arms. “I’d love to go to your house, but it’s already too late. We’ll most likely arrive in an hour. How long will I be there—”

“I mean, you should spend the night.”

“Ho…?” I glance at him, noticing how he’s become even more shy than ever. “I should spend the night? I don’t mind. My parents won’t mind either, but I don’t think that’s too convenient. Tomorrow we’ll still have our practice and I have to go to work. I don’t want to bother your family.”

“It’s the other way around. My brother’s home, so he might bombard you with one thousand questions.”

“That’s expected since besides Yamaguchi, I’m your first real friend. A girl at that,” I lightly fix his assumption. “It’s just that I don’t want to go back and forth to places that’s not my own. Maybe this Saturday I can, then I’ll go back home on Sunday evening.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend some nights? Maybe three?”

“Eh? Are you crazy? No one stays in their friends’ house for three days, especially if they’re of the opposite sex!” I howl out another refusal. “And I’ve also made a promise with people from Shiratorizawa to go an Obon festival this Thursday!”

“Obon festival?” Kei seems interested. “Well, whatever. You can still spend three nights at my house. Go back home on Thursday morning or afternoon.”

“Why are you so forceful? It still sounds too inconvenient.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you really sure?” Kei pulls one corner of his thin lips. “What if I tell you… I just bought _The Last of Us_?”

My heart quickens. “Eh?”

* * *

Kei and I craft a perfect strategy to make this sleepover works.

First, I’ll go home to take a quick shower and ask permission for my parents, which I definitely will get. Then I’ll bring a bag of my outfit for the volleyball practice tomorrow. When morning arrives, I’ll ride the train to school with Kei. In the afternoon, I’ll go to Little Blasters like usual. Kei will wait somewhere near the school—maybe inside a minimarket or at Yamaguchi’s house—before picking me from work at eight. We’ll go back to my home. I’ll take a quick shower and repeat.

“Did you take a bath or did you only wash your armpits?” Kei scoffs when I enter the living room with a white t-shirt and short pants that I’ll also use as a nightwear at his house. It did merely take me three minutes to shower because I didn’t soak myself for thirty minutes like usual. Instead of mocking me, he should be grateful that I don’t want him to wait for too long.

“Shut up.” I wear the light backpack that I’ve been carrying from my room, since there’s only a few things inside. “Where’s my father?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Let’s say bye to him,” I tell Kei, watching him stand up from the sofa and stepping toward me. Side by side, we walk out of the room and move to the next one. My father’s there with a silver can of beer in his left hand while his other hand is busy rummaging the inside of the refrigerator. It must be hard for not having his chef slash wife around when he’s this hungry.

“Tou-san,” I call my father, since he doesn’t sense my presence and smile when he looks at me. “I’ll go now. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” he shouts before going back to searching something inside the cooling box. Both Kei and I wait for him to take what appears to be a box of mixed-flavored _senbei_. It’s something that I already had this morning.

“You don’t have to, Eiji-san.” Before my father lets his intention be known, Kei straightaway guesses and refuses his generosity. I don’t see why he’s doing it, since my father doesn’t mean any harm. Sometimes his pride is too high and it’s bad for himself.

“This is from Souka in Saitama. The expiration date is in a few weeks and I still have two unopened boxes left. Please take it,” my father explains and seems like this time, Kei gives up and shyly thanks him.

“Let me put it inside my bag.” I snatch the box before Kei has the chance to touch it and puts it inside my backpack. “See you tomorrow, Tou-san.”

“Be good to them! Be polite and don’t make a mess! They’re not Tsutomu’s parents!” my father exclaims.

“I will.” I wave my hand, turning around and making my way to the front door with Kei. We wear our sneakers and leave my house in silence. When I’m outside, I realize something’s off and that’s the fact that my father didn’t mention anything about me meeting my parents-in-law or my intimate relationship with his favorite love interest. Maybe he has a bad day at work or maybe he’s too hungry to fool around.

“I notice that your parents don’t really have a fixed working schedule. Sometimes they go home at three, sometimes they aren’t home for four days,” Kei speaks after being in his own world for a whole minute.

“Oh, it all depends on the games. They’ll always have intensive training weeks before a game or a tournament. Right now they’re not that busy, but I think my mother is preparing her team for a summer away game with other universities. My house will be empty in September since there’s Fall Cup in October and also in November since there’s Winter Cup in December. They have a fine job. It’s cool to be just like them,” I say, folding my hands behind my back.

“I see,” Kei makes a short response. “I can’t wait for you to become a successful coach like them.”

I’m amazed upon hearing an encouragement from someone like Kei. “Hey, thanks! I’ll remember you as someone who’s always been there for me! Only second to Shiki-chan though, I’m sorry!”

Kei pleasantly smiles. Looking at the cordial atmosphere, I feel like today will end up as a good sleepover experience. Kei and I will play video games together. Kei and I will talk about many fun yet necessary things. Kei and I won’t fight over a stupid problem. I won’t let anything mess this day.

* * *

“Are you rich?!” Right after I walk past the thick wooden gate of Kei’s house, I yell as loud as I can. I’m deeply sorry if my voice wakes his neighbors’ cats and dogs, but I promise I don’t exaggerate. I thought Kei’s family was just enough. By that, I mean not too rich and not too poor. He has a nicer phone than me and a PlayStation, but it doesn’t mean that his father earns more than five million yen a year.

In reality, this two-story Japanese house is three times the size of my own contemporary house. There’s a huge yard surrounding the place with all kinds of pruned flowers and other plants growing on it, while my own house only has a tiny backyard that won’t let two people conveniently play volleyball. I won’t be shocked if Kei has seven bedrooms and five bathrooms. Perhaps his mother collects expensive antiques. Perhaps they have a special storage dedicated to store flours. Perhaps their standing mixer costs almost one hundred thousand yen.

“Your parents are richer, don’t worry,” Kei cooly states while sliding his front door. “I’m home.”

“Ah, excuse me!” I kind of introduce myself as I match Kei’s step inside. The first thing I do is inspect every corner of this entryway—that’s of course bigger than mine. For some reason, I feel intimidated by the well-painted milky brown walls and a neat maroon long desk that only has a ceramic vase with plastic tulips in it. Everything’s very neat and clean. Compared to anyone’s house, this place has no single imperfection to it.

“Stop staring. Take off your shoes,” Kei commands me and that’s when I let go off my admiration of this place. Only for a moment because I’ll come back stronger.

“Your house is really nice.” I sit next to him on the floor, straightening my legs only to reach half of his calves. “I bet your mother spends hours cleaning every day. No wonder you’re always away to help—”

“Kei! Welcome back—oh?”

Both Kei and I snap our head to the back. There we see a tall guy standing in front of the opened door that I assume is their living room. Without asking, I already know that he’s Akiteru, Kei’s older brother. First, Kei already mentioned that he’s home. Second, he looks very similar to Kei. His hair and eye color are darker, but no matter what lies are told to me, I’ll still believe that these two people are blood-related.

“Eh?! L/N F/N?!” Akiteru squeaks, one finger pointing at my face. “Wait, I know you’re going to Karasuno, but I didn’t know that—eh?! Kei?! What is this?!”

“Nii-chan, calm down a bit.” Kei sighs before standing up and walking forward. “He’s my classmate and also a manager in our team.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“…because it’s not important?”

“It is important!”

“Yeah. She’s going to spend three nights here.”

“Three?!”

“Yeah, she wants to play _The Last of Us_. She doesn’t own a PlayStation.”

I quickly put my shoes on the rack next to me and chase Kei who’s stopping in front of his brother, presumably because he can’t walk somewhere else since his way is blocked. I hide half of my body behind Kei, gripping the back of his jacket. I listen to the two brothers arguing with each other. Akiteru keeps asking for a better explanation on why Kei is hiding this secret, while Kei keeps saying that he feels like him befriending me isn’t something to be boast about. I agree with Kei. I always wish for a peaceful life, even to the smallest thing like this one.

“Hello, Tsukishima-san,” I greet myself as I try not to cringe. My tongue feels alien when I utter “Tsukishima-san”. Even five months ago, I always called Kei using “Tsukishima”, just like everybody else besides Yachi who’s always adding _-kun_. It’s just weird to call Tsukishima Kei “Kei”, but the rest of the family “Tsukishima”. I swear I should’ve discussed this with Kei when we were in the train.

“Hello!” Akiteru’s eyes glimmer with joy. “Sorry, I just can’t believe that someone aloof like Kei and someone well-known like you seem… to be close. I thought Kei would never find a friend besides Tadashi!”

“Oh, shut up,” Kei snarls and I chuckle. Other people would scold him for being this disrespectful to his own brother, but since I know his disintegrated brain and personality, I’ve anticipated this kind of behavior. He’s only going to be civil to his father and mother.

“Ah! Come, come!” Akiteru opens the door behind him and I can feel the cold wind blowing to the outside. I bet it’s from the air conditioner. I see that this room is indeed a living room, but it’s also connected to the kitchen and the dining room. It’s huge, but packed.

I walk in as polite as I can, but when Kei goes up the stairs, I look at him. “Kei? Where are you going?”

“I’ll take a shower. Just wait here with my brother.”

“Okay, but be quick,” I demand and Kei assures me by showing his thumb. Akiteru then tells me to sit on the long sofa near the dining table for four people. I currently don’t have a place there, but I’m sure someone will look for a chair for me or they’ll just eat somewhere else.

“So…” Akiteru throws himself beside me. “You call him ‘Kei’? Are you two dating?”

I giggle quite loudly as I remove my backpack and keep it behind me. “No. We’re just close friends.”

“Close friends, huh? How close?” Akiteru stares deep into my eyes. If he were someone else, I’d be very uncomfortable and probably run away by now. Luckily, he’s Kei’s brother. Somehow because he’s related to Kei, I can accept him more than any other strangers.

“Well… We always spend time together with Yamaguchi in school, but Kei hasn’t been going home with him. Since last May, he’s been waiting until I’m done with my manager duty and we’ll ride the train together,” I stop just because Akiteru starts to smile like a fanboy, but I know I must finish the story. “Kei just picked me up from my part-time job in Sendai. He invited me to spend some nights here.”

“Eh? Kei went to Sendai? He said that he’s going to a volleyball meeting near Karasuno!” Akiteru shouts before leaning his head against the back of the sofa. “Ah… Wait, let me process everything. You had a part-time job in Sendai. Where and as what? And why did Kei pick you up?”

“Little Blasters. As a volleyball coach for children. I just had a little bit of an accident yesterday. I fell from the stairs and I hurt myself. Kei is worried… Even when he’s like that, he actually cares about people, don’t you think so?”

“Ah… right, right. I understand now. So it’s like that, huh? That’s why Kaa-san said that Kei has changed a lot. I’ve only been home for two weeks since I also live and work in Sendai, but I notice it too. Apparently it’s all because of a girl. How cute,” Akiteru mumbles things that I can’t thoroughly comprehend, but I get the gist of it. It must be about Kei coming home thirty minutes later than usual or going to school early every time that I need to copy his homework or beg him to teach me. His family must wonder why in the hell someone standoffish like him will do more for volleyball or school.

“Um, where are your parents?” I move to another topic, even when a minute hasn’t really passed.

“Oh, they’re doing some grocery shopping. The supermarket near our house has a twenty-five percent discount today.” Akiteru answers quite normally. “Have you had dinner? We already had one at seven.”

“No, yes…” I sheepishly say before shaking my head to clear my wandering mind. “I mean, yes, I’m hungry, but it’s okay. I’ll ask Kei to buy me food. Isn’t there a minimarket nearby?”

“Why? Let my mother cook for you. She’s going to make you the best tasting—” Akiteru’s speech is cut short by the sound of the front gate being opened and a car driving inside the yard.

“Your parents?” I ask, although I already know the answer. It’s not like their cousins from another island will come unannounced.

“Yeah. Wait here.”

“Okay,” I obey his words as he leaves the room in a hurry. He forgets to close the door, but it should be fine, since he won’t be away for too long. The room will still be cold by the time he’s here.

Being alone like this helps me prepare myself. It’s been a long time since I met the parents of my close friends. What I know about meeting my friends’ relatives for the first time is that I need to always make a good first impression. It doesn’t have to be memorable, but they must consider me a good person to be around their babies. In the future, the solid relationship will give me a huge benefit. For example, if I have a fight with my parents, I can run away to their house and they won’t mind giving me food for free before forcing me to reconcile back home.

“A girl? You mean Kei has a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know! She said that they’re just friends! You must’ve seen her on TV before!”

I stand up when the two unalike voices I hear are near. In a heartbeat, a short-haired lady that looks like the adult female version of Akiteru comes in with a big white plastic bag in both of her hands. Her eyes dilate with disbelief upon seeing me. I look at her, then at her son who’s standing behind with three bags with him, then back at her. She indeed must’ve seen me on TV before.

“Hello.” I cup my hands in front of my pelvis, showing the woman a warm smile. “Sorry for bothering late night. I’m L/N F/N, Kei’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

“Aren’t you that volleyball player?!” The first sentence that she produces is inhuman. “Sorry, please sit! Akiteru, why didn’t you give her a drink?”

“Oh, you’re right!” Akiteru realizes his unintentional inhospitality. “What do you want to drink, F/N?”

“Cold water would be nice. Thank you,” I reply while plummeting myself back onto the sofa. Akiteru hasn’t had the permission to call me with my first name and without any honorific. Then again, he’s Kei’s brother, so I’m not really bothered by it. If it were someone random, I’d give him an earful about how he should respect me, even if I’m younger by far.

“You’re going to Karasuno and more than that, you’re friends with Kei?” Kei’s mother asks as she heads to one of the empty kitchen counters, just behind his son who’s looking for a clean glass from the shelves on the wall.

“They’re best friends, Kaa-san. They’re classmates and she’s also his manager in the volleyball club,” Akiteru answers on my behalf, right after he finds what he needs and moves to open the double door refrigerator nearby. He takes out a jug and fills the glass in his left hand with cold water until it’s almost full. I get even more thirsty by only staring at it.

“Hahaha. It’s the second time Kei brings a friend home besides Tadashi and the first time it being a girl.” Kei’s mother unties one plastic bag, dumping out all the stuff inside one by one from mustard to instant noodles. “It’s already so late. Are you going to spend the night here, F/N? Or will you go home at ten? But it’ll be dang—”

“She’s going to spend three nights here because she wants to play video games.” Once again, Akiteru takes over my duty. Not like I have problem. Not when he’s being very kind to the point of bringing me my drink.

“Thank you, Tsukishima-san…” I smile at him before sipping the extremely cold liquid. I wonder how high they put their setting inside their refrigerator. All the eggs and milk must freeze.

“Hey, no.” Akiteru sits beside me like before. “Just call me ‘Nii-san’.”

“Eh?” I flinch. “Why? I’m sure Yamaguchi calls you by your first name.”

“Well, yeah, him. You’re a different case. Call me ‘Nii-san’.”

I laugh, deep inside I’m all ready to play along with him and Kei at the same time. “Okay, Nii-san.”

“Ah… Kaa-san, I’m so happy… I’ve been dreaming to have a little sister… Not saying that having Kei isn’t great, but I’m jealous of those who have both younger brothers and sisters,” Akiteru blabbers to his busy mother, shrouding his face with bliss before looking back at me. “Are you sure you’re not dating Kei? I’m still trying to process this. Kei bringing a girl back home and it’s not just any other girl. It’s you. Life is a mystery, isn’t it? I never thought that the chance of you meeting Kei was a possibility. Seriously, it never slipped my mind.”

I can only smile. Everyone who knows me and Kei must think the same. I never thought of attending Karasuno, ending up being a volleyball manager in a second-rated school, and watching my perfect future ruined in a matter of seconds by having an accident. Akiteru’s right. Life is full of bad and good surprises. The people inside it just have to prepare themselves for the thrill, but I know I’m okay with what it has given me.

“Is there a visitor—oh?”

I turn my head to the door and my heart stops when I see a guy who looks like the carbon copy of Kei, only that he’s more mature and honestly, so much more handsome. He must be above forty years old, but he looks like he hasn’t reached half of his young adult life. Just like Kei, he wears a pair of black glasses. Just like Kei, his hair is wavy, but slightly longer. Just like Kei, his skin is as fair as the snow. Just like Kei, he’s very tall and lean. Or no. I think he’s a bit taller. Maybe around one hundred ninety-five? For sure there’s only a short gap between his head and the top frame of the door.

In conclusion, I should take a deep breath because he’s so handsome. I’ve never seen a father of my friend being this handsome.

Now the question is will Kei look like this in twenty years from now? If yes, then I don’t mind marrying him. In fact, I’ll register our marriage when I turn sixteen this December. We’ll make a lot of beautiful babies. I can show everyone that I’m a great woman with a greater family. My children can become a supermodel or an actor. Yes, that’s a good idea. Instead of being a volleyball manager, I’ll become a celebrity manager. The only disadvantage is that I’ll be somewhat known by the media, but I’ll earn way more money. I’m such a genius.

“Kei’s girlfriend?” Kei’s father speaks to me as he walks to his wife, driving me back to the reality even when I don’t want to.

“Oh, no. I’m L/N F/N, Kei’s classmate and club manager. Sorry for bothering. Nice to meet you.” I tuck my legs together to prove that I can sit elegantly like a crown princess. I have a huge urge to impress him more than anyone I’ve met so far in my life. This is Kei’s father and he seems amazing, in so many ways that I can’t describe with words.

“I see.” He opens one plastic bag that’s full of beers and brings it to the counter next to the refrigerator, then transferring all the cans inside. “Where’s Kei then?”

“Taking a bath,” the mother answers before muttering things to herself. Seems like she forgot to get minced meat and some kinds of sauce. There won’t be any discount tomorrow.

“Akiteru? Why don’t you help your mother?” Akiteru’s father glares at his oldest son over the refrigerator door.

Akiteru bounces from the couch with a squeak. “Sorry! I’m just too excited!”

“Can I help you too?” I offer myself and before anyone responds, I already leave my couch and stick behind Akiteru. As I get closer to the kitchen, I put my half full glass on an empty counter, quite far from the edge so no one will accidentally knock it down.

“You don’t have to, F/N! You’re a guest!” Akiteru’s mother shoves my hands away from grazing any bags, but I force my way in, gripping her wrists firmly.

“Please! I don’t like doing nothing when everyone else’s busy! Tell me where to put these! I won’t mess up!” I promise her.

She helplessly easens up with a sigh. Akiteru smiles and his father gives me on satisfied look that makes me want to dance around the kitchen. I don’t mean to be a fake lovely girl who’s only kind just because there’s something she wants from other people, but it seems like my mission to impress these people is completed.

* * *

“…what is this?”

Kei comes back to the living room with a bad temper that no one will ever be able to understand because he’s odd. His hair looks damp from the shower, but dry enough to not drip and wet his green t-shirt. He watches me happily filling all-purpose flour from its one-kilogram sack into a glass container before scanning the entire kitchen in silence. Akiteru is folding an empty plastic bag across the table from me. His mother is rearranging of the inside of the refrigerator. His is father is washing some spring onions from their grit. This is what we call a teamwork.

“Your girlfriend is very helpful, Kei. Aren’t you one lucky man?” Akiteru praises me while winking, as if I’ll melt because he considers me Kei’s girlfriend. I’ll get goosebumps instead.

“Kaa-san.” Not minding his brother’s words, Kei goes to his mother. “She hasn’t had dinner. Can you make her something?”

“Oh, right! She told me! I forgot to tell you!” Akiteru adds.

“It’s already past nine! Aren’t you starving?” Their mother wears a pitiful look. “What do you want to eat? Fried rice? Anything?”

“No, no, no. A simple onigiri is okay,” I decide. I’ve been holding my tears for an hour and sadly, the only one who can hear my stomach screech is myself. I already got some salty crackers from the vending machine outside of Little Blasters, but today I’m hungrier than usual. Maybe my hurting body needs more energy to heal.

“Not an onigiri, but some onigiri, Kaa-san. She eats a lot,” Kei corrects my request, smirking and—I know—hoping for me to become grumpy and create a scene. Good for him, I won’t do such petty things in front of his parents.

“Hahaha, okay.” Kei’s mother rushes to fix whatever she has inside her refrigerator before turning around to see me and her two sons. “Just go to Kei’s room. I’ll bring your food there.”

“Is that okay?” I make sure.

“Of course! How many times do I need to tell you that you’re a guest? Who knows that you’ll be my future daughter-in-law—”

“Kaa-san, please,” Kei stops his mother from creating a novel, but his eyes turn to Akiteru. “Nii-san, I’ll sleep in your room. She’s going to sleep in mine.”

Akiteru’s thundering laughter confuses both me, Kei, and perhaps his parents too. “Aren’t you being a bit possessive, Kei? You don’t want her scent on my bed?”

Kei clicks his tongue. Without speaking a word, he grabs my hand and drags me away from the kitchen. He pulls my backpack from the sofa and walks me out of the living room. Am I maybe an idiot for not even attempting to let myself go? Though Kei deserves an applause for doing all of these in front of his family since I always thought that he’s going to be too shy to even stand less than a meter next to me.

“Hey, I have an opinion about something,” I speak when we’re stepping on the stairs to the second floor. “Your father is so hot.”

Kei grunts angrily as he loosens his grip on me. “I used to think that sometimes you told me the most disgusting thing I’d ever heard, but of course you always have something more disgusting to say in your pocket.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t use the word ‘hot’ when you describe my father,” he threatens me. “Do you want me to call your mother ‘hot’?”

I fall silent to reflect on myself, but not for too long. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry, Kei-chan. Let me rephrase that—he’s handsome. He looks just like you, while Nii-san looks like—”

“So now you call my brother ‘Nii-san’ too? Great.” Like a grammar teacher, he needs to find an error in everything I say.

This time, I don’t retort as he opens the door of his room. It’s very chill and bright. The size is a bit smaller than mine, but way neater. Right to the door, there’s a minimalistic silver study desk with a black laptop on top of it and some books that I assume are novels. Right above it, there’s a shelf with some picture frames and dinosaur figurines. The latter tickle me because they remind me the adorable side of him that not many people know about.

Left to the door, there’s a black wardrobe. Across from it, there’s a huge window covered by a white curtain. I don’t have to ask to identify that as a door that’ll bring us to a balcony, something that doesn’t exist in my own house. After the wide space, there’s a forty-something inch TV that’s being put on a three-tier black stand. I spot a PlayStation 3, two joysticks, and some familiar video games. Last but not least, there’s the obligatory bed across the source of Kei’s entertainment and mine tonight.

“Isn’t that Toothless?!” I shout when realize that the black thing next to Kei’s pillow isn’t just some random fluffy object. I leave Kei’s side as I crawl forward, bringing the plushie near my chest. I hug it like it’s Yue. It helps that the size is the same as my somnolent cat.

“How old are you?” Kei mocks me as he closes the door behind him.

“Says the one who owns this,” I counter his accusation as I sit on top of his bed, legs casually folding because I know Kei won’t get mad if I treat this room as my own. “Ah, I really like Toothless. He looks like a cat. Big eyes and everything. Did you buy this?”

“I got that from a claw machine years ago.” Kei hangs my bag on the single hook behind his door before walking and sitting beside me, a bit further to the edge of the bed.

“Do you like this plushie?”

“So much. I collect Barbie dolls too,” Kei sarcastically replies. He then yawns and that one thing somehow makes his attitude more annoying than it should be.

“Hey! I’m serious!” I weakly push his back. “If you don’t like this, then will you kindly give it to me?”

His eyes linger on mine for a couple of seconds—perhaps he’s considering my question—before a mumble escapes his mouth, “…wash it once a month.”

“Eh? Oh? Really? Thanks!” I beam, not even trying to hide my gratefulness. “I’ll make sure Yue doesn’t bite and rip it, but I don’t think he will! But seriously, thanks!”

“Why are you always overly happy because of small things like this?” Kei comments on what I consider as a normal behavior to have, but before I even think of a word to say back to him, he kneels in front of his TV stand.

“Have you completed the game?” I ask, watching Kei simultaneously turn on his TV and PlayStation.

“Just a week ago.”

“Really? When did you buy the game? It was released this June, right?”

“Two weeks ago. If I had bought it last June, I wouldn’t have had the time to play it. We were so busy with Interhigh, midterm, training camp, what more?” Kei grabs one joystick and logs in to the only account he has. I thought Akiteru would have one, but I suppose he has his own console in Sendai, a place he currently resides in. It can also be that he doesn’t play video game, I’ve never met a guy who doesn’t play some type of game, regardless the platform nor genre.

“Does your brother have an apartment in Sendai?” I choose another subject to ask, but also to fill my curiosity.

“He rents one. Why?” Kei scrolls through the menu, right to the list of the games he owns.

“Just asking.”

Kei doesn’t find anything weird with our conversation. He presses on _The Last of Us_ logo and stands up, moving back to be beside me and handing me the joystick. I shift backward with my lower part, then stop when I feel my body hitting the wall. This position seems so right because the screen isn’t too far nor too close and the height isn’t too high nor too low. It’d be better if Kei had a sofa instead of a bed, but I won’t be ungrateful by complaining too much.

“I’m going to do my homework,” Kei tells me as he heads to his desk. I know he doesn’t mean it this way, but I find it ironic and selfish that I play video games while he does his homework. I guess it’s all the reason why I’ve never had a higher score than him in any subject. Even if I study, my brain won’t reach his level and tenacity. There’s nothing I can do about it.

“Can I copy your homework?” I make my voice cuter on purpose.

“It’ll be shocking if you don’t copy my homework,” Kei emphasizes his “don’t” and I grunt. I want to be mad, but I have no rights to. I’m very blessed that I have the heart of someone like him. Hinata and Kageyama can bribe him with one million yen and he still won’t give them a glimpse of his homework.

I go back to watching the TV or to be more precise, the title screen of the game. There’s a rustic window that’s slightly pried open, letting in some leaves that grow wildly from the outside. A dirty and ripped curtain gently sways because of mild wind, entering the abandoned place through the cracks. To wrap everything into something that makes me want to cry before even getting to know all the characters and their backstory, an acoustic guitar is chosen as the theme. It’s very tragic and beautiful at the same time.

I press start and choose “New Game”. There are four difficulty levels available for me to pick, “Easy”, “Normal”, “Hard”, and “Survivor”. I’ve never heard about the last one, but I know that it’s the most difficult mode. Since easy isn’t too challenging, but I also don’t want to die every five minutes, I’m going to choose the normal one.

“Just choose the easy mode. Even normal is too hardcore for someone like you,” Kei remarks. I didn’t realize that he’s been staring at me because I thought his homework would be more important.

“Blah blah blah,” I ridicule him, jokingly. “Which mode did you play on?”

“At my first try? Hard, then I’m currently replaying it on the survivor after I unlocked it. So far, it’s a piece of cake—”

“Yeah, who asks that additional detail?! Arrogant!” I shout at Kei, thumb choosing the mode that I want to. I’ve never played a game with the easiest setting possible because for me, that’s only for someone who doesn’t even know how to properly hold a joystick or someone who only wants to focus on the storyline, giving the gameplay no priority whatsoever.

Kei laughs a bit too loud for my liking, but it’s not like I ever enjoy him making fun of me. What he does next forces me to pause my game before the cutscene begins since I don’t want to miss a single frame. He takes his science book and red pencil case with him as he comes to me. He gives me a feeling of déjà vu when he sits on my left, simply because yesterday he’s also next to me when we were in my room.

“Why are you here?” I act mean.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure that it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that this is my room and I can do whatever I want in it.”

“Ugh! Stop being so sarcastic!” I jab his side with my elbow, earning a muffled “ouch” from him. As I continue my game, I make a vow to myself that I’m going to ignore any sound he produces from this point onward.

* * *

Once again, I pause the game after I pass the intro, but instead of it being caused by Kei’s eccentricity that always irks me to no end, it’s because I need a moment to process what my eyes have just absorbed for the past fifteen minutes. I stare blankly at the screen that shows me the first second of the opening credits, but my heart and mind fly off somewhere far.

I can’t really be that sad because a one-dimensional little girl from a video game just got murdered by a soldier who was forced to do it. I know nothing about her past, school friends, or even a quarter of her personality. I can’t relate that much to her. I’m just speechless because everything happened too fast and her father wasn’t ready to lose her within a night. Whoever wrote this story must be gifted. The characters’ dialogues weren’t awkward, their actions were human, their emotions were palpable. I can’t wait to see what awaits me after this.

“You’re exaggerating if you cry because of that,” Kei says while scribbling words on his book.

“Not even close!” I glare at him. “But… well, I have to admit that that’s the best video game intro ever. I saw the Japanese and English trailer and they were messy. I’ve heard great things about this though.”

“I think so too.”

I’m glad that someone knocks on Kei’s door before I proceed with my game. It’s Kei’s mother, bringing a tray of four onigiri, two empty glasses, and a jug of water. Kei’s considerate enough to help her, carrying the weight with his two hands and allowing her to leave the room in peace. She smiles at me when I thank her. I haven’t spent much time with this family, but I can already tell that none of the parents nor brother has a twisted personality like Kei. Maybe Kei’s mother ate a wrong kind of trash when she was pregnant with him, that’s why this is the result.

“Don’t eat on the bed. Go down here,” Kei orders me as he puts down the tray on the floor and I understand his purpose. This family is actually quite nice to allow food to be eaten in the bedroom. My mother hates that, so the only thing I can bring with me is mineral water. She says anything with taste will attract ants and other insects. I can’t object her rule since I know I’m not brave enough to hunt cockroaches down with my own hands.

“These are huge. I wonder what’s the filling—” My fingertips barely touch the onigiri when Kei stops me by seizing my wrist. If I could, I would scratch his face because he’s preventing me to fulfil my hunger. 

“Your hands are dirty,” he says before I chant one thousand complaints. He walks to his handbag that’s kept beside his desk and takes out a green pack of wet wipes from the inside. He opens the cover and pulls one piece. Once he’s back, he gives the moist cloth to me.

“How sweet…” I smile before cleaning every corner of my palms. “You’re like Semi-san. A clean freak. Your wife will be addicted to you.”

“Why? Just because I don’t mind washing the dishes?”

“You won’t only be washing the dishes. You’ll be washing the dishes neatly. If there’s water on the floor, you’ll clean it afterward. There won’t be soap going all over the place.” I chuckle, eyes scrutinizing my hands to make sure that they’re clean. “Anyway, thank you. Where’s your garbage bin?”

“It’s outside.” Kei points at the door behind. “Just put it on the tray. I’ll throw it for you later.”

“Yeah! Thank you for the food!” I express my joy as I drop the wipe and grab one onigiri. I bite and chew like a hungry wolf, tasting salted salmon inside. The feeling when it goes down my throat is like no other because finally, my stomach won’t suffer anymore.

I quickly pick my second onigiri while Kei plays with his phone that wasn’t around before, so I assume he had it in his t-shirt’s pocket. Being a curious person like I am, I scoot sideways and peek at his screen. I’ve done this too many times, but even the first time I did it, Kei didn’t push me away. He only looked at me and nothing. Yamaguchi did it once and he got furious, almost knocking his own childhood friend to the floor. If I’m not mistaken, he also called Yamaguchi “disgusting” for snuggling into him.

“I thought you’re chatting someone,” I murmur when I see Kei scrolling through Japan Today’s website. If he’s reading some fun stuff, then it’s kind of alright, but he always reads about politics, finances, and things that I’ll never be able to make sense of.

“When was the last time I chatted our group chat?” Kei gives me a random quiz.

“Huh…?” I look into his eyes, as if I can find the answer behind his thick glasses. “I joined the group chat a few days after it was made, so… I don’t know? So far you’ve never written anything.”

“Exactly. Never.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe you have an ex-girlfriend from middle school or that one girl that you like but can’t confess to,” I mention some mindless subjects that I already know aren’t true. Kei’s still very pure. He’s never even had a crush on a celebrity like what many normal people do.

“Oh, right. Do you know that there’s a meteor shower tonight?”

“Eh? What?” I almost choke on the onigiri, eyes going as big as they can get. “Meteor shower?”

“I thought you knew about this, but of course not… someone with almost zero knowledge like you,” Kei rudely states, but I ignore him since my interest is fully taken by what he’s about to say next. “It’s called Perseid Meteor Shower. It’ll be clear in our sky from midnight to dawn.”

“Really?! That’s so cool!” I exclaim in excitement. Besides pictures and films, I’ve never seen the real meteor shower. Living in Miyagi is great since the place isn’t as populated as Tokyo or Osaka. Meaning, it’s easier for sparks to be seen in the sky with bare eyes.

Perseid Meteor Shower on August thirteenth. Perseid Meteor Shower on Wakatoshi’s birthday. I feel warm inside when I picture Wakatoshi’s smiling face when he finds out about this. He’ll be very happy, maybe even more than when I gave him his birthday present.

“If you want to, we can—”

“I have to inform my friends!” I take the phone that I keep inside of my pants’ right pocket. The last time I touched the heating object was at my house. That was just to check if I got some important messages or not. I didn’t because everything was about Tendou’s stickers. Even as I type my message, all I can see poppping out is his stupid fight with Kawanishi or Shirabu.

_Me_  
_ 9:39 PM There’s a Perseid Meteor Shower tonight!_  
_9:39 PM_

_Tendou_  
_9:39 PM  
What’s that? 9:39 PM_

 _ Reon_  
_Oh, right! I read about that a few days ago! 9:39 PM_

 _ Kawanishi_  
_Just google it, Tendou-san 9:39 PM_

 _ Goshiki_  
_Meteor shower??? 9:39 PM_  
_Can we see it in our sky? 9:40 PM_

 _Tendou_  
_Okay, be right back googling 9:40 PM_  
_9:40 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:40 PM Kei said we can ^^~_

 _ Goshiki_  
_Huh? Why are you bringing that guy? 9:40 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:40 PM I’m staying over at his house for 3 days_

 _ Goshiki_  
_Oh? 9:40 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:40 PM I’ll be back on the 15th_  
_ 9:40 PM In the morning/afternoon for the Obon Festival_

 _ Kawanishi_  
_Him again 9:40 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:40 PM Eh, why?_

 _ Kawanishi_  
_Nothing 9:40 PM_

 _ Reon_  
_Don’t be rude like that, Taichi 9:40 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:40 PM ??_

 _Kawanishi_  
_9:40 PM_

 _ Tendou_  
_Hime-chan, when can we see the meteor shower? 9:41 PM_

 _ Kawanishi_  
_Sorry 9:41 PM_

 _ Me_  
_ 9:41 PM From midnight until dawn, so maybe around 12-4?_  
_ 9:41 PM 5 is already too light I think, especially that it’s summer_

 _Goshiki_  
_Why don’t you watch it with Ushijima-san? 9:41 PM_  
_9:41 PM_

_Tendou_  
_True! He’ll be so happy! 9:41 PM_  
_9:41 PM_

_Goshiki_  
_You can have a video call with him 9:41 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:41 PM But he won’t be available until 1 our time_

_Reon_  
_Hmm… 9:41 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:41 PM Or 2/3? Since he has to get to the hotel and maybe have some meeting afterward_

_Kawanishi_  
_The meteor won’t appear at his place since our time is ahead right? 9:41 PM  
_

_Tendou_  
_True_ 9:42 PM  
_9:42 PM_

_Reon_  
_Watch it next year with him then? 9:42 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 9:42 PM Next year?_  
_9:42 PM_

_ Tendou_  
_Oh! I read that it’ll also be on August 13 next year! 9:42 PM_

 _ Reon_  
_Hahaha, your sticker is cracking me L/N 9:42 PM_

 _Tendou_  
_9:42 PM_

_Kawanishi_  
_Watch it with Ushijima-san~ 9:42 PM_  
_9:42 PM_

“Hey, finish your food first.” Kei’s menacing tone makes my eyes flutter rapidly. He keeps reminding me of my parents. This time, it’s about them who dislike it whenever I eat while I’m on my phone. Since I can’t find a word to defend myself besides that I just want to text my friends, I put my phone down.

“Sorry,” I say before grabbing another onigiri. “You know, tomorrow is Wakatoshi’s birthday and his friends told me to watch the meteor shower with him. I don’t think he’s ever seen one before, so it’s going to be our first together. The thing is… he’s in Paris. We’re seven hours ahead and he’s going to land at one a.m our time, which is six p.m. his timee. We won’t be able to watch it together. Also, I don’t think stars can be seen in Paris’ sky.”

“I see,” Kei breathes out a reply.

“I already put two alarms so I can wake up to wish him a happy birthday. One at twelve a.m. and the other one at seven a.m. Do you think it’s a good idea to say it twice?”

“Why not?” Kei drags himself up just enough to sit back on the bed. “Anyway, I’m going to bed soon.”

“Eh? When?” I wear an unhappy look, because I genuinely want us to spend more time. In total, we haven’t been together for more than two hours.

“Soon,” he says again.

“Why?”

“I’m sleepy.” He crossed his legs, bringing his book onto his laps.

“You don’t want to stay up…?” I use a velvety voice to ask him. “I mean, don’t you want to watch the meteor shower with me?”

Kei shakes his head, roughly scratching his chin before his fingers go back to touching his book. “I don’t care about meteors or stars. They’re all dead, anyway.”

“How rude. That’s a stupid reason to decline my invitation, Kei.” I bite my onigiri, chewing it fast. I don’t forget to pour water from the jug into one of the two glasses and drink enough to relieve my stuffed throat. Then I go through my fourth piece. My last one. I’m not that full, but at least I’m assured that I won’t wake up in the middle of the night because of extreme hunger.

Kei begins writing things on his book when I see him again. I keep my eyes longer on him this time. People always look more lethargic when they need to rest, but when was the last time I saw Kei being too tired to the point of looking like he doesn’t want to listen to me anymore? I hope that the changes I notice on his face is just a part of my imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual reasons why I didn’t update for a long time:
> 
>   1. I just got new cats after 10 years of not having one. I name them Kei and Hikaru “Hikki”. I play a lot with them. I neglect my life. BUT I MEAN COME ON THEY LOOK LIKE THIS:  
>    
>  (Hikki and Kei. It took them only 3 days to be good with each other, while everyone said that it’d take 2-3 weeks. They love each other so much. Hikki follows Kei everywhere. Kei is a tsundere, but he protects Hikki a lot ~~I HAVE EVIDENCE~~. Hikki was scared of jumping, but Kei taught her to. They only want to eat from the same bowl. Did I just reveal that I’m #TeamTsukki? Who knows. :3)
>   2. I… kinda made a BNHA x reader and updated 3 chapters already? Please check on my profile and if you decide to read, then I hope you like the story? Beware of the readers’ different personality.  
>  The reader here is like: (≖ Δ ≖ ✿)  
>  The reader there is like: (˶◕‿◕˶✿)
>   3. I’m lazy.
> 

> 
> I also made a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/itsmakimono), which I should’ve done a year ago since I don’t have a platform to update the status of my fic. If you follow me, please mention things like “hi, I’m your reader” or something, so I won’t accidentally follow back a pervert. :3
> 
> Thank you for reading! I’ll be sleeping until next year. Huh. Have a nice day~


	47. * A Little Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akiteru breathed a desperate sigh. “Are you sure you two aren’t having a fight?”
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Is she sleeping?”
> 
> “She’s playing a game.”
> 
> “Why don’t you tell her to sleep? Don’t you have to go to school tomorrow?”
> 
> “She can do whatever she wants,” Kei snarled, sounding even more irritated than before. “There’s no need to worry about her. Ushiwaka will keep her busy.”
> 
> Akiteru blinked in silence, before realizing that he didn’t hear the name wrong. “Ushi—huh? Ushiwaka? You mean Ushijima Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa? Huh? Why are you mentioning him?”
> 
> As expected, Kei chose not to answer, but Akiteru wouldn’t give up that easily. After all, this wasn’t the first time he was faced with the unstable phase of the moody Kei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who hasn’t updated this fic in 2 months? Me! :D
> 
> I’m sorry (again). I hope this picture will repress your anger:  
>   
> (I can’t find the source)
> 
> This is a special chapter written in 3rd POV about Kei, I hope you’ll like it. Please don’t be “SERIOUSLY I WAITED 2 MONTHS FOR BABY WAKA TO ONLY BE MENTIONED?! UNSUBSCRIBE FOREVER! >:(”.
> 
> Happy reading~

* * *

All that Kei wanted to say was _please don’t be with someone else_ , but the frail words were stuck in his throat, just like thousands of stories and wishes he could never tell her.

But who was there to blame besides himself? She wasn’t gifted with an ability to read his mind by only looking into his eyes. It was all on him for being a coward who could never be honest and let anyone break through his guard. He was too afraid to get rejected, too afraid to show that he needed someone for something, perhaps even too afraid to get “maybe” or “I’ll think about it” as an answer. He hated this part about himself, yet at the same time, he had no clue on how to fix it. He’d always been the worst and it wasn’t like he could suddenly become the greatest overnight.

Like always, he only sat there, listening to her describing her plan of watching the meteor shower with a guy whose name he didn’t want to hear, especially not from her mouth and not in a tiny room that belonged to him. It’d be the guy’s birthday soon—perhaps she didn’t even remember what would happen this September. She’d set up two alarms so she could congratulate him twice—how romantic of her to do that to someone she’d only known for less than three months. There wouldn’t be any stars in Paris’ sky tonight—she didn’t need to tell him that because he couldn’t care less about what happened in another country, just like he didn’t care about the way she treated this one particular person.

Ironically, they’d made a promise to never hide anything from each other. It could be as simple as holding a can of cola instead of a bottle of apple juice—still they mustn’t tell a single lie. For him, the cruelest way she could do to break his heart was to conceal the truth, even if it was for his own sake. He asked this himself, he got it because he wanted it, but then he was hurt. What did he want her to do? To shut up completely? To tell only half the story? Should he muffle her mouth with his hand and plead? He couldn’t just force her to stop mentioning someone else’s name without sounding like an envious person, could he?

He understood. It was all his fault. It was never hers. It was always his.

“I’m going to sleep.” Barely thirty minutes later he announced, closing the thick book on his lap as the girl beside him paused the game she was currently playing.

“Okay,” she responded, voice softer than the last time he heard it. “Um… I might fall asleep again after I wake up, so make sure to check on me, okay?”

He stared at her, eyes sharp and bothered. Why didn’t she add another alarm for that? She could ask her many useful new friends to wake her up. She could ask that other guy who was kinder and would always be there for her. Better yet, she could have a video call with the person she adored the most from seven in the morning until she had to change her clothes for the volleyball practice. Talking to someone in Paris must be wonderful that the time would pass too quickly. One hour must feel like ten minutes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Of course I’ll wake you up. As if there’s a way for me to leave the house alone,” he replied without answering her question before standing up from the bed and neatly put his stuff back on the desk. He didn’t forget to grab the tray of her empty plate of food, leaving her glass and a nearly-full jug of water. He just thought that she’d need liquid to survive the night.

“Tsukishima Kei, you’re not a good actor,” she easily called him out. “You seem a bit more upset than usual. What’s wrong? Why do you have your period twice a week?”

His lips trembled slightly, but no one would be able to sense it. “I’m just sleepy. Sorry.”

“Eh?! Sorry?! You’re weirder when you apologize out of nowhere like that!”

“Yeah, whatever. Be quiet. The walls are thin. Everyone can hear you,” he casually apprised her, hoping that this little talk would sound like their usual conversation. “Good night.”

“Hehehe. Good night. See you tomorrow. We’ll have breakfast together, so don’t forget to wake me up, okay?” She sweetly grinned and his chest tightened up. He took that as a sign to leave this room by opening the door and shutting it quite loudly, contradicting to his previous warning of not making too much noise around here.

It was a mere second.

If he’d looked at her lovely face and heard her tuneful voice for one more second, he feared that he would’ve dropped everything he held to hug her body tightly, begging her to ask him to stay. That was it. That was his problem. He expected her to want him, while in fact he was the one who dreamed to have all her evenings for himself. How pathetic of him. He felt more hopeless than the person with the lowest score in his school for even feeling this way.

* * *

It was already ten, so Kei didn’t expect his entire family to be sitting in the dining room, peeling and eating oranges while having the TV on with only the father caring about the late night show it broadcasted. This reminded him of the box of _senbei_ he forgot to give them. He would take care of it tomorrow when he went back to his bedroom and unzipped the bag that was hung behind his door. Although it didn’t belong to him, he knew that he wouldn’t need a permission to search the inside.

“Ah, Kei! We were just talking about you and your girlfriend! We like her so much, that’s the conclusion! Good job in finding a great candidate on your first try!” Akiteru enthusiastically blabbered. Kei didn’t react much as he walked into the kitchen area and dropped the tray he had inside of the sink. There were some other glasses and spoons that needed to be washed, but his mother would take care of everything before bed.

“It’s about time for Kei to learn about loving someone else,” Mitsuko added, chuckling afterwards.

Kei sighed before turning to face the dining table. He was so sure that if they knew more about the fights that had happened in the past four months, they’d still say the same. Everyone in his volleyball team was the ultimate proof of the irony. No one seemed to care about the fact that she had someone else in her life and the romance was all over the media. Either they were too naïve to realize what’s currently going on or they genuinely believed that things could work out between him and her like a fairy tale.

“Oh, right… Kei, I almost forgot,” Mitsuko spoke again. “Tomorrow Kita-san wants you to come to her house for the part-time job. She wanted to ask a few things. I told her that you’ll be available after six. Is that good?”

Kei’s forehead twitched. “Alright.”

“Oh, wait… are you going to pick F/N again from Sendai?” Akiteru inquired with a grin. “Kaa-san, don’t you ever wonder why Kei suddenly wants to find a part-time job too? I bet it’s because he doesn’t want to lose to F/N. He wants to become a better partner for her.”

“Oh? You could be right!” Mitsuko shouted like she was a high schooler who was thrilled when her close friend just got confessed by the guy she’d crushed on for years.

Kei grunted, inwardly cursing his doomed fate for having a nosy brother and mother. “Not everything is about her. I need work for money and experi—”

“I like her even more now,” Mitsuko cut Kei’s correction as she rested her arms on the table, propping her chin on her joined hands. “She motivates Kei to become a better person. She’s kindhearted and sweet—she’s perfect. What do you think, Akiteru?”

“One hundred percent.” Akiteru nodded several times, completely wonderstruck by his own picture of Kei’s future family with F/N. It didn’t look bad at all.

“But I’m a bit sad that she can’t play volleyball again. Wouldn’t it be great if our son and daughter are both professional volleyball athletes?” Mitsuko questioned her husband who looked unbothered by this subject. All he did was smile before watching the TV again. He was the embodient of the male lead character in many novels out there—quiet, mysterious, and if that wasn’t enough, also very good-looking.

“You don’t need to feel sad for her, Kaa-san. She’s getting paid a whole lot for her job, just because she has a name. She’s still surrounded by the top athletes in volleyball. Her parents are rich. Most of her families are rich. Her future is secured. Things haven’t been difficult for her and please, I’m not an athlete,” Kei babbled mindlessly, as if someone had asked him the biography of lucks of a girl who lost her number one dream just a few months ago.

After a long awkward stillness, Akiteru muttered, “Why did you say stuff like that? Did you have a fight with her?”

“No.” Kei gazed down as he walked away, directly to the door that’d bring him out of this place. If he stayed any longer here, he was afraid that he’d show his woeful side to the people whom he met every single day. That equaled to him being interrogated about one million things that he didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want them to bug F/N either.

“You’re sleeping? Wait a minute, I’ll go too.” Akiteru stood up from the chair, seemingly not minding when Kei didn’t even bother to look at him or give a response.

* * *

Kei wasn’t surprised when he found a futon with a pillow and folded blanket on the floor of Akiteru’s bedroom, prepared by none other than Akiteru himself—he knew Akiteru would refuse if their mother had offered him a hand. Kei also wouldn’t be surprised if Akiteru allowed him to sleep on the bed instead because of his brotherly love, but by the time Akiteru arrived in the room, Kei had taken the first step by lying on the thin mattress, putting his glasses above his head, and covering himself with the blanket that had a heavy flowery scent to it.

“Tsk. I forget my phone.” Three seconds later, Kei startled Akiteru when he kicked his blanket away, almost smashing his glasses had he been less careful. He looked confused on what he was supposed to do and what he did next was pretty stupid—he just threw himself back onto the futon and covered his body again, making his previous dramatic action meaningless. No matter how Akiteru saw it, Kei clearly had at least five broken cogs inside his brain.

“…what’s wrong with you?” Akiteru asked as he headed to his bed, sitting on the edge and crossing his legs. Kei’s back was facing him, but there was no way he was already roaming in his dream world. It was too soon for someone who often had a trouble sleeping when something wasn’t right.

“I’m normal.”

Akiteru breathed a desperate sigh. “Are you sure you two aren’t having a fight?”

“No.”

“Is she sleeping?”

“She’s playing a game.”

“Why don’t you tell her to sleep? Don’t you have to go to school tomorrow?”

“She can do whatever she wants,” Kei snarled, sounding even more irritated than before. “There’s no need to worry about her. Ushiwaka will keep her busy.”

Akiteru blinked in silence, before realizing that he didn’t hear the name wrong. “Ushi—huh? Ushiwaka? You mean Ushijima Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa? Huh? Why are you mentioning him?”

As expected, Kei chose not to answer, but Akiteru wouldn’t give up that easily. After all, this wasn’t the first time he was faced with the unstable phase of the moody Kei.

“Is there something going on between her and Ushi—”

“Tsk. Stop talking. I’m trying to sleep. If you want to find out, why don’t you just google it?” Kei rudely interrupted Akiteru, but there must be a part of him that was aware that he’d given out a way for Akiteru to understand the problem.

As quick as possible, Akiteru reached for the phone he put on his nightstand. He typed F/N and Wakatoshi’s full name on Google’s search bar, choosing the first recommendation of the autocomplete. His breathing hitched when he read the words _seen together, dating, going out on a date, secret relationship,_ and so many more suggestions that he knew would hurt some hearts. He tapped on the first article he saw. His eyes scanned through the pictures of two familiar-faced people smiling and hugging each other. There was also a video taken from a perfect angle to show how much these two were into each other, even when the rainy weather could ruin their loving day. They looked happy. He even had to mute the sound so it wouldn’t upset anyone.

“What is this… Kei?” After he finished watching the video, Akiteru asked because he really couldn’t find a proper reaction, but he learned one thing for sure. “Hey… are you mad because of this? It’s okay if you are. I won’t laugh at you for feeling a certain way.”

Just like before, Kei didn’t open his mouth. From the way he breathed under the cover, Akiteru knew that he was still awake. No matter how insouciant he attempted to be, he was a human too. No matter how many times he stated that F/N’s relationship with someone else would never bother his life, his attitude told the opposite. Actions would always speak louder than words and Akiteru wished Kei would realize that before trying to act cool.

“Kei, listen… There’s a worker at my office. He’s forty-seven years old,” Akiteru randomly began a story as he locked his phone and set it aside. “He’s still single. He’s tried dating some women in the past, but none ever worked out. I got quite close to his circle and I heard that apparently, he still can’t move on from his first love during high school, who’s also his good friend that time. He said he never did anything right. He never confessed when the time was right. He never asked her out on a date when the moment was right. He never praised her when she looked beautiful. He never fought for her. Too bad, she’s now married with kids. There’s nothing else he can—”

“What’s your point of telling me that?” For the second time, Kei ended his brother’s sentence with so much stress. It was quite a progress when he chose to come out of his pointless hiding. He sat while leaving most of the blankets on and around his folded legs.

“Because,” Akiteru paused, preparing his mental for Kei’s childish outburst. “…if you don’t do something about this, you’ll end up just like my co-worker.”

Kei fell silent. He stared at the palms he rested on top of his lap. He wanted to laugh it off, but he couldn’t. Akiteru’s story about his friend—if it wasn’t made-up—did sound like a portrayal of his fate in thirty years from now. He’d work a boring nine-to-five job with an acceptable payment. He’d be forced by his manager to take a lot of overtime, most likely without getting paid for it. When he was done, he’d go home alone by night train to a decent, yet empty apartment. No one would prepare a warm food for him. He’d order an unhealthy takeaway for almost every single day, unless if his coworkers asked him to eat at a restaurant with them.

Imagined if she was there. It’d surely be colorful. He’d have a reason to wake up in the morning, to wear the same uncomfortable office suit that was washed and dried just last afternoon, to get through the problems other people at work might cause him, to cope with all the traffic lights on his way home, to be patient and understanding, to do anything just to ensure the well-being of those who he loved the most. He’d see a wonderful meaning in the life he thought would just end like that.

They’d have playful kids running around the house whenever they could, especially when their father wasn’t there to scold them. Everyone would have neverending topics to be talked about during breakfast and dinner. One son would complain about his angry teacher who gave too much homework that should be finished in less than a week but couldn’t. One daughter would mention a handsome transfer student in her class, but she’d be shushed before she began her description of his beautiful eyes. The littlest one would have a hard time handling chopsticks and the others would try to help while laughing because it looked adorable.

The unrealistically ideal dream made Kei curse at his own heart. He got too tired of this. He hated himself for being too sentimental. Four months ago, he would never be lost in the thought of falling for someone or even bringing them back home. She was never part of the plan. She used to be on the top and people like him could only fantasize to join her sparkling world. She was meant to be surrounded by important people, not a piece of rubbish like him.

“…I have no idea.” Ignoring Akiteru’s statement, Kei mumbled out an obscure sentence. He felt thankful for not having a mirror in front of him because if he had, then he’d be disgusted by his own face. He’d smash the glass and call himself weak.

“What do you mean?” Akiteru softly asked. “Kei, we’re brothers. You can tell me everything and you know I won’t share it with anyone, not even Kaa-san. I swear.”

“Please don’t mind me. I just thought of—” Kei didn’t finish his sentence and scrunched up his nose, feeling dreadful when the memories of what he’d done in the past forcefully come to haunt his mind.

Lately, he’d been thinking of ignoring her until time would make them forget that at one point in their high school life, they were close friends. She had a lot of guy friends in and out of their school, so losing one wouldn’t matter much. But she’d run after him and cry like it was the end of the world. She’d try to speak, which would result in her choking on her own words. It would be annoying to see since she wouldn’t do for only once. They’d also still be in the same school and club. She’d work hard on winning him back for every single day. He knew that about her.

“What is it, Kei?”

Kei looked at Akiteru from the corner of his eye before exhaling a long and tired breath. “Has… someone… Have you… Um, have you ever made someone cry because of you?”

“Huh.” Akiteru gave his brother a muddled look. “You mean they cried because I did something bad to them?”

“Yes.”

“Accidentally?”

“No,” Kei groaned. “You did it because you’re—I don’t know, you just did it. You’re the worst person in the whole universe. You didn’t know why you hurt them, but you did it and funnily enough, you felt bad right after.”

Akiteru parted and closed his lips in incertitude several times before he finally answered, “I’ve hurt some people when I didn’t mean it, but for someone to cry because of that… I can’t think of any. So what did you do… to F/N?”

“Nothing. Not her.” Kei averted his eyes from Akiteru.

“Really? Then why did you ask?”

Kei shrugged.

“Hah… Why don’t you just be honest for once?”

“What do you want me to say if there’s nothing?” Kei snapped, being all defensive.

“Kei.” Akiteru’s voice dropped by a semitone. “If it’s not me, who are you going to tell this to? Tadashi? He’s your schoolmate. You’ll be embarrassed to death because he sees F/N just as much as you do. Then who? Kaa-san? Tou-san? Your teacher?”

Kei gritted his teeth because he couldn’t counter Akiteru’s question. He felt stupid for asking in the first place because even if he looked goofy most of the time, Akiteru was a very observant individual. Akiteru’s an intelligent person who often knew what’s currently going on with the people in this house. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that they’d lived together for years, but regardless of what it was, the bottom line was that Akiteru’s judgement couldn’t be underestimated because they were generally correct.

Still Kei didn’t want to.

He’d rather kill himself than tell someone about what he felt because what would he get if he admitted that everything Akiteru had said was true?

Of course he was mad at her and the random guy who out of nowhere came into her life. He didn’t expect him to come uninvited like that. After four months of befriending her, the famous name was never mentioned anywhere in their dialogues. Why did she hide it from him? Why didn’t she trust him? He thought they were the best of friends. She called him her beloved person for so many times and although he never said it out loud, he always smiled and that should be enough for her to decipher his meaning—that he felt the same way.

The day he found everything out was just like any other Monday during a long holiday. He was sitting on his bed in the afternoon, hands sturdy around a joystick as he snuck past some fungus-like mutants. He paused his game for a moment to check on his phone because maybe there was something necessary that he must know. There certainly was. His club’s group chat was flooded with a discussion of two familiar names—one of the girl who was supposed to be in Sendai with her father and one of the best volleyball player in the prefecture.

His mind went blank. He tapped on one of the many links given by his upperclassmen and he wanted to vomit when he saw pictures of her being too intimate to someone other than himself. He couldn’t bring himself to read the rest of the article as he threw his phone onto his bed. He slowly sat down, trying to understand the situation he was facing right now. It really felt as if someone had punched him in the gut, but his heart was the one that ached like nothing he’d ever experienced before. She’d never hurt him in any way and when she finally did, did it have to be this way?

The night before, she had a plan of applying to a coaching job in Sendai. He offered to go with her, but she wanted to think about it more. This morning, he woke up early to ask her and she refused by saying that she was going on a date with “someone handsome”. He thought she was just playing around because once again, no suspicious name had ever left her mouth. She could’ve just said the honest truth. He couldn’t accept what she’d done. It sounded like he was so full of himself, but he always thought that she was his. From the hours they spent and the fights they went through together, she was meant to be with him.

He hated the guy who was nothing but a pest in his eyes. He used to raise an eyebrow towards people who declared their hatred to a person they didn’t personally know. He didn’t care if their attitude or laughter was bothersome or if there was a rumor going on about them—he simply didn’t understand why anyone would utter the word “hate” when they didn’t even know the first name of the person they “hated”. But now he understood. There was someone who could be the kindest and the politest, but he should project that to another girl, not his.

When he thought about it again, he laughed at his own attempt to be contemptuous. That person actually wasn’t too bad. As much as he wanted to deny the fact, that person was no less than a brilliant young guy with a bright future ahead of him. Every time he appeared on the news, he always looked formidable, unbeatable, charismatic, and full of optimism. He was very popular and talented. He was going to represent Japan in Volleyball U19 World Championship and he was the only player chosen from Tohoku, a region with a population of nine million people. Not to mention that he was also nice-looking, tall, and well-built.

Now what about him? Tsukishima Kei? No one knew who he was and they never would because he wouldn’t be a person worth looking at. He’d play volleyball while he was still in school and once he graduated, he’d find a normal job. He’d sit behind a desk like he was never running around a court. The only good thing about him that was also the sole reason why he was a starting blocker on his team was his height. Imagine if he was a student from a powerhouse like Shiratorizawa. He wouldn’t even become a substitute player. It would already be good that he was allowed to join the team. For every single tournament, he’d just cheer for everyone in the bleachers.

The rest of his day was ruined. He chose to continue playing since he didn’t have anything better to do with his life, but he couldn’t really focus and ended up getting killed for the first time in history—which was ironic, considering that he’d finished the entire game once with a high accuracy. He couldn’t prevent his mind from going through all the questions about someone else’s relationship that wasn’t his business. How did they meet? How did they become that close? What did they talk about? What had he done to her? Did they do more than what was captured by the lenses?

Then the moment when he had to attend school for practice came. He didn’t feel like going, but he didn’t want to look affected either. Some people poked fun at him, stating that he’d lost the battle and that he had to fight more. Fight for what? Even if he worked until his legs bleed, he would never be half as good as the other guy. He was born to be a subpar person. He wasn’t blessed with a special innate skill like the setter of his team. Even after the accident that happened last October, the girl he held dear in his heart was still a notable volleyball star. It wasn’t strange if she picked someone who was her equivalent. Someone who wasn’t a loser like him.

He knew that she’d reach out to him. He never thought that there would be a time when he’d genuinely wish for her to shut her mouth. Every word that came from her sounded like an insult. Every single syllable that she spoke brought him skepticism. When she said “hi”, did she really mean in that way? He couldn’t hide his irritation and when she noticed it, she begged him not to lie and be honest. Had she gone crazy? Did her new guy brainwash her into being a more ignorant and selfish person she already was? Because she was the one who lied first and then she asked him not to do the same to her.

When the club activity was over, he decided to leave earlier without waiting for her. She was still being extremely oblivious when she ran after him just so they could go home together like usual, exclaiming that she wanted to be with him. That was when he lost it—he yelled at her, calling her things he didn’t mean and causing her to form a face that scarred the gleeful memory he had of her. He felt awful when he still had the heart to not make his feelings clear and leave her alone for weeks. His anger overtook everything. At that time, he could only blame three people; himself, her, and the third person.

“Kei.” Akiteru’s tone went back down, forcing Kei to face him. “Why don’t you tell me of how you two started befriending each other?”

“Huh?” Kei frowned. “Unimportant.”

“It’s important!”

“For you, not me.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Tsk. No.”

“I’ll tell F/N that you love—”

“It was nothing special!” Kei looked beyond frustrated, deeper lines carved on his forehead. “She’s my classmate and club manager! That’s about it!”

“Yeah, I get that, but tell me more!”

“…the first time I had a real talk to her was when a random bird poop on her head when she was washing bottles outside the gym,” Kei flatly talked in one breath. “I was there to wash my hands, so I told her because she didn’t realize an additional weight on her head. There you have it. A stupid story of how I met your favorite girl. Happy?”

Akiteru blinked his eyes in disbelief before cackling like he just heard the best joke ever told—it maybe was. “What was that? Did you help her clean her head?”

“Yes, with my bare hands,” Kei sardonically replied before clicking his tongue. “Of course no. Gross.”

“How mean! I bet you couldn’t stop teasing her.”

“Well, I straightaway told everyone in the club. She got so angry and wouldn’t talk to me for days. It’s her fault for having a bad luck.” Kei stroked the back of his head as his mind recollected that memorable sunny day. He never apologized for it, but she just forgave him. There was also the time when she grabbed their classroom’s broom that was apparently broken and received a splinter all over her palm. It was bloody. He took her to the infirmary and she just laughed like it was nothing. She was always so joyful, giggling and being very patient.

“Bad luck, huh? I heard she wanted to attend Shiratorizawa,” Akiteru said. “Don’t you think that if that accident didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have met her? Among all good schools available in this town, she chose Karasuno that’s too ordinary for someone like her. It must be a sign.”

“What sign? Whatever you may be thinking, wouldn’t that be great if she could still play volleyball? She’d be happier than now. Everyone who’s seen her in the court will agree. She belongs in a prestigious place like that, not here,” Kei spoke faintly, not wanting to agree on his own words and the thought of not having her around, but knowing full well that it’d be a lie if he stated otherwise. It didn’t have to be her. It could be a painter who lost both of their hands over a war or a singer who lost their voice from a sudden disease. If they could, those whose dream was taken without their consent wouldn’t think twice to obtain it back.

Akiteru shook his head. “You shouldn’t say such things, Kei. You should be thankful instead. Do you mind not meeting her?”

“I’m sure she’d be happier that way and yes, I was fine before I knew her,” Kei cooly answered.

“Really? Did she ever say that she’d be happier without you?”

“I never asked.”

“You should.”

Kei snorted, turning down the mawkish idea. “I’m going to bed.”

“H-hey, wait! You should tell F/N to sleep too. The PlayStation won’t run anywhere! She can continue tomorrow!” Akiteru went on as he watched Kei lie back on the bed, once again covering himself with the blanket and facing away from the older guy.

“Go tell her yourself,” Kei advised. “It’s not like she’s only looking forward to finishing the game.”

Akiteru’s face was cloaked with another confusion. “…what are you talking about now?”

Akiteru waited and there was no reply.

“Kei?”

Still nothing.

“Come on, Kei. Tell me.”

A total silence.

“Ke—”

“Most likely she’s going to watch meteor shower with we-all-know-who but don’t ask me more because I don’t care!” Kei snapped his head to left, giving Akiteru a murderous look. “Leave me alone, will you?! I’m trying to sleep here!”

“Eh? Why are you this frustrated if you don’t care?” Akiteru asked. “I read that there’s a meteor shower in mid-August every year. Is she planning to watch it with Ushiwaka today?”

Kei rolled his eyes, showing an obvious hint that he didn’t want to continue talking about this subject and primarily, he didn’t want to keep hearing the the surname his older brother just said until his ears became deaf. Once again he hid under the blanket, promising himself that this would be the final one. No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to leave this spot until he had to wake up in the morning. It wasn’t like the person he wanted to see the most would knock on the door with a smile and asked him to spend some time with her. His life wasn’t a beautifully-plotted fiction.

But as he closed his eyes for good, his mind chose to betray his vow by replaying countless things accumulated in his heart. All the thoughts he wasn’t able to tell her that started with _I’m sorry._

_For everything that I’ve done to you, I’m very sorry._

_I never want to make you cry, but I always do._

_I’m the worst because I don’t know why I’m like this. I keep trying to understand myself. I want to change, but I can’t._

_I hate myself for not knowing how to make you genuinely happy._

_After what happened ten months ago, have you ever been genuinely happy?_

_I never want to leave you._

_During the time when I chose to go home alone, I couldn’t stop thinking about you._

_Did you cry again on one of those days? Did you hide it from everyone in the train? Did you hold it until you’re back to your room?_

_Who did you talk to afterwards? What did you tell them? What did they say about me? Did your parents notice? I hope they don’t hate me. I want them to like me._

_You often laugh and smile because of me, but it’s easy for me to ruin your day by saying things that I don’t mean._

_Why am I like this?_

_I’m sorry. I’m really sorry._

_All I want you to know is that I want to keep having you by my side until I can make you proud._

_So all I ask is for you not to hate me._

* * *

Akiteru gave up when Kei didn’t want to answer any of his words. Since he didn’t think threatening Kei with a knife was a wise thing to get what he wanted, he decided to leave the gloomy boy alone since he had another idea in mind—he wanted to try negotiating with F/N so she and Kei could spend some good time together tonight. Maybe “negotiating” wasn’t the right word because he believed that she’d instantly say yes to his request. Everything about her wanting to be with someone else must be all in Kei’s despondent brain.

Akiteru took a deep breath when he stood in front of Kei’s bedroom. He could hear a sound of F/N playing video game from the inside. Before recklessly coming in, he thought of what would be the best way to ask her without revealing the fact that Kei had told him a few things about what had been going on between them lately. He couldn’t just say “hi, Kei is sad, so will you lift his spirit by watching the meteor shower with him?”. She wouldn’t decline, but he was afraid if she accidentally told Kei. He couldn’t afford making Kei distrust him forever.

He then wondered about what exactly Kei saw in her. He didn’t mean to be a jerk, but for the past ten years, he’d seen a lot of more beautiful girls who threw themselves at Kei for free. There were times when Kei didn’t attend school on his birthday or Valentine’s Day because he didn’t want to go home with four gigantic bags full of sweets, dolls, scarfs, and other gifts. But of course, not all of them were atrocious. There were also those who should be considered as an ideal lady—the pretty, smart, polite, and kind ones. For some reason, none of them could steal Kei’s heart.

F/N wasn’t bad herself. She wasn’t disgustingly ugly, she was witty, she was confident, she played the sport that Kei loved, and she always looked so radiant, like she was made from a mix of joy and love. But compared to those who tried to stand beside Kei? Physically, she wasn’t the number one. She wasn’t even in the top ten. Maybe top fifty, but not higher than that. Was it maybe the way she spoke? She could have the greatest mindset and it wasn’t rare for someone to feel attraction because of that. Love wasn’t about how they looked. Sure it mattered, but their character would weigh more than anything.

“Alright,” Akiteru murmured to himself before knocking on the door. He was prepared to act accordingly to the small plan he had at the back of his mind as he waited for no more than five seconds for the door to be opened.

“Oh?” There was a disappointment in F/N’s eyes. “Nii-chan, what’s wrong?”

“What’s the matter? Do you expect someone else to come?” Akiteru playfully smiled.

“Um, not really…” She tugged one corner of her mouth before stepping sideways, allowing Akiteru to enter the room.

“I’m looking for a pen,” Akiteru lied as he walked to the study desk and pulled out the upper shelf since he knew that was where Kei kept his unused pens, pencils, and other things. “Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s late.”

“I’m going to after twelve.”

“Why after twelve?”

“I want to say happy birthday to a friend.”

“Oh, really? You’re very nice.” Akiteru picked one blue pen and closed the shelf before turning around to look at F/N. “By the way, I read that there’s a meteor shower tonight. Why don’t you watch it with Kei?”

“Oh? Uh, yeah, there is… I asked Kei to watch it with me, but he refused. I think he’s a bit angry at me. I’m not sure why though… I was planning to watch it with my friend, the one who’s having a birthday tomorrow, but he’d be unavailable tonight. I guess either I’ll watch it alone for a few minutes or I’ll just sleep and wait next year.” Unlike Kei, F/N immediately answered, matching their explanation and proving that no one’s fabricating anything.

Akiteru gulped, getting himself ready to proceed because the girl in front of him had given him a shortcut. “So… based on your story… I assume Kei is your second choice?”

“Huh? No, never!” F/N shook her head in terror. “If it weren’t my friend’s birthday, I’d choose to watch it with Kei!”

“Really? Are you saying that just because we’re brothers?” Akiteru felt horrible for saying such things, but he had to. The best he could do to fix this misunderstanding came to this.

“No! Believe me!” F/N squeaked a plea.

“Well then…” Akiteru tried his best to suppress his satisfied heart. “Why don’t you try to ask him? He’s still awake.”

“Sure… but how?” F/N asked and before she received a clear answer, Akiteru let her follow him back to his own room, opening the doorknob and pointing at the perhaps-sleeping Kei. F/N stared at him with a pair of clueless round eyes, wordlessly begging for an instruction because she couldn’t just leap onto the futon and ruin Kei’s mood even further. They could have a real war tonight.

“Walk to him and shake his body,” Akiteru whispered, extra careful not to alert Kei who somehow looked like a crestfallen warrior from the 16th century. He actually slept like a normal human being, but the previous conversation they had had made whatever he did one hundred times gloomier.

F/N solemnly nodded her head. She entered the room and kneeled beside Kei. It was funny to see how Kei didn’t notice her existense in the room at all, when it should be apparent that he hadn’t begun dreaming yet. Maybe his head was full of negativity that made him not to be aware of his surrounding.

“Kei! Will you watch the meteor shower with me?!” Instead of using a silky voice to woo Kei, F/N pushed Kei’s body like she was trying to roll a heavy object. It was different than Akiteru’s version of “shake his body”, but the way Kei jerked up and supported his weight with both hands while looking lost was worth the misconception.

“What—huh? What are you doing here?” Kei fluttered his eyelids more than what he actually needed before glaring at the person who was responsible for this.

“Sorry…” Akiteru spoke quietly. He was glad someone else was present because then Kei wouldn’t grab a chair and ram his head with it. He knew Kei would willingly do that.

“Kei, let’s watch the meteor shower with me,” F/N repeated her request, softer at last. “Don’t you want to experience this moment with your beloved—”

“Fine, fine, fine! Stop exaggerating!” Kei gripped the girl’s chin to make her stop rambling before shoving her away. “You could ask it nicely, not like this!”

“Huh?! I did half an hour ago and you refused!”

Kei smirked. “Oh, did I?”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t!”

“Yeah, whatever.” Kei rubbed his left eye quite roughly.

“…I hate you.” F/N stood from the cold floor, offering one hand to Kei as if she was strong enough to lift him up. “Come on, get up.”

“I thought you hated me?”

“I thought you didn’t care about meteors and stars because they’re dead?” F/N smartly retorted.

“You’re right. I’m going back to sleep then.”

F/N wiggled her hand. “Kei, come on!”

Akiteru smiled while enjoying the childlike quarrel in front of him. Just for this time, he was right about everything. Kei might not believe it himself, but the feeling he had for her was always returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please PLEASE rate the salt in this chapter. :(  
>  0/10 is meh.  
>  10/10 is will cure fish with it.
> 
>   
>  [Someone](https://twitter.com/pantsutaku) actually drew “fish buried in deep salt” hehe…


	48. The Reason They Fall pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There mustn’t be a secret between us. How stupid is that?” he continues, unexpectedly concerning me with his mellow tone and how his fingers travel on my bare cheek, caressing the surface with such delicacy. He’s done this kind of thing before. Rarely, but enough to prove me of how sweet and sublime he can be if he wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS A TWO-CHAPTER UPDATE! PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS ONE FIRST!
> 
> This chapter is betaed by Nica.
> 
> Happy reading!

* * *

“Are you stupid?! Shoot the head!”

I exhale a long heavy breath, fingers skillfully pushing some buttons on the joystick I hold with both hands. Right now, Tess and I are in an abandoned area occupied by grimy people who call themselves “smuggler”. They look like they haven’t washed themselves for a year, but while in a zombie apocalypse, I’m sure showering once a day is one of the last things people will care about. They sell guns and police dogs that I can’t buy because the game designers want me to loot stuff to proceed—thankfully, I don’t need to eat or drink like if it were real life. I don’t quite understand what’s going on, but I must defeat many of them because this Tess girl out of nowhere just shoots one of guys. The world has changed. It’s totally fine for everyone to murder everyone without the slightest forethought to discuss things out.

“See, now you’re letting them shoot you! There’s a reason you can crouch! Those crates and containers are meant for something! Can’t you play a bit smarter than this?”

Ignore, ignore, ignore. I should be patient. I keep my lips intact as I finish killing the last guy who’s apparently the Robert we’ve been looking for. We then meet this wounded woman named Marlene. She tells us that she’s bought Tess weapons and if we want them back, we need to help her. This sounds too inconvenient for both parties, but it’s great that they don’t start putting bullet through each other’s head like before. Tess seems chill about this as she wants to prove whether Marlene is telling the truth or not. That’s smart because during a crunch time like this, we can’t believe in people that easily, not even in our own family and closest friends.

“It’s going to be rougher from here. You haven’t really met the real _real_ infected. You won’t survive a second. There’s also this one thing called clicker and you need to be extra careful when you’re around them. I should prepare my phone and record your face every time you die. Good for future entertainment.”

Right.

So, Marlene understands Tess’ condition. We proceed to the inner part of the town because the rest of the bad guys are searching for us. We climb a ladder, continue walking, sneak past some soldiers, and I don’t mind walking some more because the view surrounding me is breathtaking. When I arrive at this broken building, I find a lot of glasses bottles and bricks. I can throw them to distract the soldiers, but I won’t do that because someone will yell at me for “doing unnecessary thing”. I continue forward until I hear a forewarning from the central that the curfew is now in full effect and I’ll get prosecuted if they find me wandering outside like this. It’s still pretty light for the day to reach a curfew, but then again, the world isn’t how we used to know it.

“You have the worst shooting skill. You’re wasting so many bullets. You can never play the harder mode, that’s why I told you to just go with the easy one. Why don’t you stop and play Candy Crush—”

“Kei, shut up!!!” I scream at the top of my lungs when I can’t handle the negativity projected by the guy sitting beside me on the bed of his room. “I don’t own PlayStation and I’ve been dreaming to play this game since last year, so why don’t you just let me play however I want?! Will it hurt you if I do?!”

It’s not surprising when Kei laughs, more genuine than when he riles other people up. His mission is to get a reaction from me and I’m not stupid to fall for it every time. I’m just kind. As much as I want to ignore him, I realize that if I give him what he wants, he’ll stop being an obnoxious person. It won’t last more than half an hour, but at least it’s something.

I click my tongue as I focus back on the TV screen. I forget about Kei’s madness when I enter a secluded room and meet Ellie, the little girl on the cover of the game. I want to utter some of my first impressions of her, such as why is she so brave to aim a knife at adults who are three to four times her size and that I hope we’ll get a chance to play as her later in the game, but I hold myself back because I know Kei will have a few rude things to comment on me. Right now, I simply don’t want to start any conversation with him because anything can restart his urge to criticize everything I do until I’m deaf.

The conclusion of the story so far is that I must go with Ellie to one place, while we wait for Tess and Marlene to check the weapons. It’s quite simple since all I need to do is move a bit and I arrive there. I learn that Ellie’s fourteen, which is only a year younger than me. I thought she’d be twelve at max, but I guess her figure is just tiny and she also has a baby face. People like Kei and me can just claim to be nineteen and no one will ever doubt us. The perks of having a tall physique, I suppose. Our voice doesn’t sound immature either.

As I watch the cinematic of afternoon turning into night clouded by downpour, I glance at Kei for a moment. He looks back at me with a smile and I scrunch up my nose, signaling him to stop himself from doing whatever he’s planning to. Maybe he doesn’t have anything in his mind, but I can never be too sure. It’s nice like this. Just him without all his redundant words, being next to me so we can watch something together in peace. When I avert my eyes, I feel a sudden weight my left shoulder. Of course, it’s Kei. For some reason, he just chooses to lean on me. This is a form of affection that he’s never done before.

“I don’t mind if you do this, but I need both shoulders to kill zombies before you go yelling at me for making a mistake,” I try to push him away using my entire upper body, but it’s futile. Our weight could be the same, but he’ll always have more power than me. I don’t dream to be physically stronger than him.

“You’re injured in this.”

I roll my eyes. “Then why are you trying to hurt me even more? If you’re sleepy, then go to your brother’s room. I’ll call you when it’s midnight. Or just sleep on the bed, not on me.”

“You have enough fat that it feels nicer than a pillow.”

“Thank you. You’re welcome. Good for you,” I retort with a sentence that he always uses to me and it makes him laugh. I don’t care anymore. There’s something more important than any of these.

* * *

“She’s infected?!” Five minutes barely passed when I moan, trying to loosen my heart from all the suspense. “I knew it!”

Kei scoffs, as he now doesn’t rest on my fat body anymore. “Stop trying to look clever. You didn’t know it.”

“I knew it! There must be a reason why she’s so important to the Fireflies! She has to be the answer to this apocalypse, so she’s either the cure or the daughter of someone important!”

“Hmm, alright.” He strokes the back of his head lazily before getting up from the bed, heading towards the balcony door. He doesn’t tell me a thing about what he intends to do, but the clock hanging on the wall shows me that it’s almost midnight. We’re going to be able to see the meteors falling or maybe, we can already see them now.

My excitement brings me to pause the game and run after Kei. It’s warmer outside since Kei’s room has an air conditioner, while all we have out here is the Miyagi’s natural summer wind. There are two foldable white chairs on the corner and a small round table between them. It looks dead for a place to spend observing stars at, but I doubt someone in the Tsukishima household has ever been out here for a greater purpose other than cleaning up. I’ve never met a person who tells me that they love to read books while drinking coffee every morning in the balcony. It’ll sound too much like a novel.

Kei beckons to me before pointing at the sky. I walk to be next to where he leans against the concrete railings, eyes counting the tiny sparkles that seem to be never-ending. I haven’t read a lot about astronomy, but I believe that the meteor shower makes the sky more crowded than usual. I can’t imagine what will people who live in a quieter place see tonight. I’m a bit jealous of them, but I’m thankful that I’m here and not in Tokyo.

“I read that the peak is at four. Can you stay awake until then?” Kei asks.

“…uh, not sure, but I’ll try. How about you?”

“I’ll try.”

I grin, looking at the guy beside me. “How kind. Why did you change your mind? I thought you didn’t care about meteors and stars because they’re all dead.”

“I’ll leave you alone.”

“Just kidding! Stay with me!” I grip Kei’s right arm albeit he hasn’t moved an inch. “We can already see some after midnight, right? Let’s stay until two or three or until we can’t take it anymore.”

Kei narrows his eyes. “Okay.”

“You say ‘okay’, but you look like you’re about to murder me.”

“Drowsy. My eyes will be closed in any minute,” Kei clarifies before heading back to the door that’s less than three meters behind us. “There are a lot of mosquitos outside. We should use bug repellent.”

Kei’s attentive words warm my heart and I have no other option but to follow him. As soon as we’re inside, he takes a bottle of bug repellent from the first shelf of his fancy-looking nightstand. He grabs each one of my hand and sprays the surface, being extra careful not to leave a spot behind because mosquitos master their way around us humans. He then kneels in front of me and sprays my legs, holding them when needed, but I know when to lift my legs to make his job easier.

There are a few things that I like about him tonight. The number must be that he wants to watch the meteor shower with me. He still wants to watch it when it’s obvious that his energy is only ten percent left. It can be said that he stays up just for this. If he can last for more than two hours, I should repay him back by doing something that he likes—maybe we can watch his favorite movie together, even if I dislike the premise and genre. The last one is of course now, when he takes care of me before himself. It’s not rare for him to do this, but it tingles my skin every time he does it.

“Thanks,” I mutter once he’s done and begins to spray himself. Both of us wear short sleeves and pants. It might be a good idea to change into a longer outfit, but then we’re going to be sweaty. I prefer to get bitten three of four times than to feel extreme heat.

As I wait for Kei to finish, I observe the nightstand that’s bigger than the one in my parents’ room. It has three shelves and since he doesn’t own a make-up table like I do, I assume that’s where he keeps the necessary stuff because his study desk must be full of books. Since he grabs a bug repellent from that place, I should be able to find his cologne, comb, and some medicines. There must be another secret that he hides from everyone, but I don’t think he’s that stupid to put them in a nightstand that has no built-in key to it.

Without asking for a permission because Kei is my other half that won’t get angry if I mess with his things, I open the first shelf. I should get an award for being able to guess that it’s where he saves his brown vanilla-scented cologne. I don’t mean to mock whoever pays for this cologne, but it looks like a bottle of cough syrup. The design is very plain. It only has a white label on its body with “Replica”, “Jazz Club”, “Brooklyn 2013”, “Heady cocktails and cigars”, “Male fragrance”, and “Maison Margiela Paris”—a brand that I’ve never heard before. The fonts used are boring and I can get them for free on Microsoft Word. In short, this doesn’t look too convincing, but the smell always tells me otherwise.

“That’s the fragrance that you like.” Kei startles me when he drops the bug repellent inside the opened shelf. When he sits on the edge of his bed, I stand up to be next to him as my eyes keep gawking at the label.

“What’s ‘Replica’?” I ask, looking at Kei with a frown. “Is this a fake cologne or what?”

Kei widens his eyes while obviously trying to hold his laughter. “Please tell me that you’re just acting stupid.”

“No! I don’t know anything about branded things!”

“This is a popular brand. Do you know how much this cost?” Kei snatches the bottle away from my hand. “Almost fifteen thousand yen.”

“Okay… Why are you showing off? And you dare tell me that I’m the rich kid here,” I emphasize the last few words. The perfume that I’ve been using is only around three thousand yen and twice the size of this Maison Margiela Paris whatever.

“I’m just informing you. My father gave it to me,” Kei states. “It’s great that he didn’t get a wrong one. Because you like it.”

I almost lecture him because of what I thought to be his new arrogance—a trait that everyone will greatly dislike—but I take it back upon hearing his sweet statement. I leave the bed to open the second shelf and find a green bank book and some papers that I don’t care about. The third and last shelf is quite heavy and I don’t regret my nosy decision to pull it open because all I see is a pile of pink and red letters. There are some purple, orange, and white ones, but they’re nothing compared to the first two colors and their shades. In total, there must be more than fifty letters there.

“Are these… love letters?” I ask for the obvious.

“Yes. Most are from my middle school. I don’t get confessed that much in high school, thanks to you,” Kei nonchalantly replies, as if this kind of thing happens to just about everyone. Kageyama is very handsome and I don’t think he even gets this much—and it’s maybe because he’s more unapproachable than Kei, but I won’t ruminate on that right now.

“How about elementary school?”

“I got some, but I don’t remember where I kept them. My mother took care of them. I just started saving the letters myself when I entered middle school because my brother told me to,” Kei explains. “Don’t think of me as someone with weird hobby. I’m kind to keep the letters and not throw them out.”

“Uh, yeah, I understand that.” I grab one red letter with a cute white ribbon on the middle of it. “Is it okay if I read some?”

“Do you realize that you’re always like that?”

“Huh?” I dart my eyes back at Kei. “What?”

“You hold something before you ask for a permission.”

“Oh? Hehehe, sorry.” I stick my tongue out before opening the letter. It’s handwritten and neat. I’ve never written a love letter to someone, but once I feel like it, I’ll just type and print it. It’s 2013, not 1931. I don’t care about people not calling me romantic. It’s better to do it that way than send the guy I love a formal e-mail.

_ Dear Tsukishima Kei, _

_I’ve always had you on my mind ever since I saw you at the opening ceremony._  
_ You might not know me because I’ve always been that quiet girl that no one notices._  
_ I know you’ll never be with someone like me, but I just want you to know that I’ll always support you! I like the way you play volleyball the most. You looked very cool during all the tournaments._  
_ I wish you’ll have a great and successful life._  
_ Please enjoy the cookies._

“Huh? This girl is cute and it’s cool that you get free cookies from her,” I praise the person, although I also feel bad for her. One, because Kei couldn’t return her feelings. Two, because she fell for someone aloof like Tsukishima Kei.

“Hmm, yeah…” Kei sounds exhausted. “I remember her. She gave me cut-out cookies. They tasted good. A bit too bitter for my taste, but good nonetheless.”

“Aww, she must be happy if she knows this,” I state before opening the next letter. It’s a simple darker red and the material feels more expensive.

_ Dear Tsukishima Kei, _

_I love your smile._  
_ I love the color of your hair._  
_ I love the color of your eyes._  
_ I love the way you laughed._  
_ I love you._  
_ I remember the time when you spilled soda all over your hands at the cafeteria. I prayed to God that you would lick them clean, but you didn’t. You still looked hot. My friends agreed, but I’m the one who loves you the most._

I cock one eyebrow while laughing because I’m creeped out and I also pity Kei for having such fan slash stalker or however we should call this one girl. I can’t bring my heart to proceed because everything is revolving around her lust over Kei’s beauty, including but not limited to his slender legs, long neck, thin lips, proportional nose, and I must stop now if I don’t want to scorch my eyeballs. This time, I pick a pink letter.

_ Dear Tsukishima Kei, _

_ There are no words to describe what happens to my heart when I look at you. I’m always thinking of you. I hope you enjoy the chocolate cake I give you. _

“Short and boring. Can any of these girls write? But it’s great that you get all kinds of cookies and cakes from them since you like sweets,” I slide the paper back inside the envelope and choose a white letter. Unlike the previous letters, this one is nameless and it doesn’t start with “Dear Tsukishima Kei”.

 _I live upstream and you downstream._  
_ From night to night of you I dream._  
_ Unlike the stream you are not in view._  
_ Though both we drink from River Blue._  
_ When will the river no more flow?_  
_ When will my grief no more grow?_  
_ I wish your heart will be like mine._  
_ Then not in vain for you I pine._

“This is great!” I exclaim before handing the letter to Kei. “Do you remember it?”

Kei indolently takes the small paper, skimming through it within seconds. “She didn’t create this.”

“How could you know?”

“It’s too poetic, so I looked it up on the internet. It’s a popular Chinese poem.”

I breathe out an “ah” before sulking, feeling disappointed because just when I think that I’ve found that one letter that wrings my heart, it ends up not being legitimate. The adoration the girl felt towards Kei might be as real as it can get, but what’s hard about writing some beautiful and earnest sentences? It’s alright to be poetic, as long as it’s not too extreme which will result in one confusing profession of love.

“I can write you a better letter than any of these,” I declare my unproven skill as I watch Kei fold the letter in his hands and put it back inside the shelf, closing it afterwards. I consider this a sign for me to stop going through his stuff, but he doesn’t have to do it because I’ve lost my interest three minutes ago.

“Really?” Kei asks. From the way he looks, he seems to take my words with a pinch of salt and that’s not alright.

“Yes, and I know how to begin.” I keenly look up at him. “Dear Tsukishima Kei… Among hundreds of people I could meet, I’m glad that it’s you.”

Kei doesn’t immediately retort, but it takes him no more than a couple of seconds to stretch one corner of his mouth and form a sneer that I dislike. “Sweet. How many people have you said that to?”

I don’t ask for a shooting pain in my chest, but I feel it. What I do next is shaking my head like a terrified person, as if a revolver is aimed to my head and I must beg the wielder to spare the life I haven’t lived to its fullest. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way because this is just the usual Kei. He always jokes around and he never means it when he speaks harshly towards me, but I guess my brain forces me to remember the time when I begged to go home with him and he wondered if I also said the same thing to Wakatoshi. I don’t exactly know why it hurts, but it does.

“…only you.” My eyes drop to my knees. “I’ve never said such a thing to someone else, so please don’t accuse me like that…”

“Mhm. Alright. Thanks, if you really feel that way.” Kei gets up from the bed, proving that he’s far from being serious. “I’ll refill your jug. Do you want something else? Remind me about the _senbei_ tomorrow morning.”

I bite my lower lip before standing up, clenching my hands beside my thighs. “I really feel that way about you and yes, I might feel that way to other people, but I’ve never said it to any of them. Why don’t you trust me? I’m sorry for everything I’ve done—”

“I didn’t ask that,” Kei deliberately cuts me off. “I asked if you want something else. Snacks? Juice?”

“Uh…” There’s another pang in my chest, but I try to get rid of it by gulping down. “No, nothing.”

“Okay. Go play your game. We’ll watch the meteor shower when I’m back.”

“Okay.” I nod my head without demanding for more explanation. I do want to know the reason behind his “I didn’t ask that”. It’s as if what he really wanted to say was that he didn’t ask _for_ that. He didn’t ask me to tell him that among everyone I could’ve been friends with in this town, I ended up being with him. Rather than to contemplate all by myself, I simply have to find the right way to ask him once again.

Kei’s only taken two steps away from he originally stands when the phone I put on top of his nightstand rings loudly. Even from far, I can see the screen showing a big “00.00”. A sign that I must say happy birthday to Wakatoshi from Japan. I hastily run to turn the alarm off because I know that I mustn’t bother the family who’s sleeping safe and sound. There are so many notifications from Shiratorizawa’s group chat, but it’s not something new. I’ll ignore them until tomorrow as I open my chat with Wakatoshi and leave him some nice words.

 _Me_  
_12:00 AM Wakatoshi, happy birthday from Japan!_  
_12:00 AM_   
_12:01 AM You’re 18 now, how does it feel to be legal in many things?_  
_ 12:01 AM Good luck on getting your driver’s license. I’m sure you’ll get it before Tendou-san, although he’s older than you :p_  
_ 12:01 AM I’ll wake up at seven. If you’re still awake by then, let’s have a video call, okay?_  
_ 12:01 AM Rest well~_  
_12:01 AM_

As I unlock my phone, I can’t help but wonder what Wakatoshi’s currently doing up there. Is he eating too much? Is he drinking coffee, tea, or orange juice? Is he snoring while hugging the pillow I gave him? Is he talking to his coach and teammates? I hope people treat him well. They should, since he’s one of their best players. They should respect him as much as everyone in this town, although I can’t be too sure since there are those who are three years older. They might think that they know it all, just because they have more experience entering a competition.

I smile, hoping that he’ll do the same when he reads my message in two hours from now.

* * *

When Kei comes back and puts our drink on the floor, he waits for me to finish my current mission to leave Tess and escape the soldiers only with Ellie. I thought it would take me ten minutes before I could get into the next cutscene, but it turns out to be almost triple the time. Mostly, because I get lost in the dark and rainy area, as known as everyone’s worst archenemy. Instead of guiding me into finding the quickest way, Kei degrades, laughs, and makes a few comments about my low intelligence and creativity. At least I should be happy that he’s being his normal self now.

“How long will it take for me to finish the game?” I ask after I’m done watching the short cutscene that explains Ellie’s immune can really be the vaccine of this entire mess.

“For me, ten hours. For you, fifteen hours,” Kei says before he kneels to turn the PlayStation off. I assume the game will automatically save my progress.

“Hey, what does that even mean?!” I throw the joystick to the empty spot beside me. “If I can only play for approximately three hours a day, I need five days. Is that okay if I stay longer here?”

“You need to go to the Obon Festival with your friends.”

“So what? I’ll go back to your place. After I get a change, of course.”

“Fine, up to you. Let’s watch the meteor shower.” Kei stands to pick the tray that carries our drink and walks to the balcony. Just like before, I follow his step. Since his hands are occupied, I close the door behind him while he sets the tray on the table.

My brain might be playing a trick to fulfil my wish to see something special in the sky, but the stars look brighter than when I was out here forty-five minutes ago. I stand behind the railings before Kei positions himself to my left. I look at the darkness around me. Seems like in this neighborhood, we’re the only people who are curious about the meteor shower. Perseid meteor shower isn’t broadcasted all over the media, so that must be the reason why no one really cares. Even I wouldn’t know it had Kei not tell me a thing about it.

“Where is it? Can we really see it with our bare eyes?” I mutter, squinting my eyes in hope that it’ll sharpen my vision. If doing so can really help, Kei won’t even need a pair of glasses.

“Be patient.”

“How long should we wait, Kei? Should we maybe sleep now and wake up at three since the peak will be at four?”

“You can’t wake up.”

“True,” I sincerely admit my own weakness. “Then how? I can’t see a thing. I want to see something now. Just one will be suf—ugh no, I want to see a lot of them so I can make a lot of wishes. Will you make a wish? We should do it together. Let’s say it out loud, Kei. Who cares about the rule that if we say it, then it won’t come true? Let’s just do it, okay? My heart is beating so hard for some reason.”

Kei sighs. “Will you stop whining for once?”

“Ah! Kei, look!” I shout when I see a white line flashing up there. I can’t describe it with better words than this. It’s like an airplane during nighttime, but faster, smaller, and doesn’t flicker too many lights around it. There’s no way that’s not a falling star.

“Uh, yeah, I think that’s one…”

“If a zombie apocalypse occurs in my lifetime, I want to be immune.” Before Kei finishes his sentence, I announce my first wish. He’s stupefied upon witnessing the star, but I guess I’ve blown his mind even further. In a wrong way of course, since he gives me this aggravating look.

“Okay… in all honesty, you’re not going to be the main character in that world. You’re not going to be the hero to save the world,” Kei simultaneously jeers and curses at me. “It’s going to be another girl who’s very badass and can shoot way better than you. Kuroo-san will fall in love with her. That’s my wish.”

“What—hey, you’re so off-putting! Why are you bringing that guy into this?!” I can’t help but to feel insulted when he proudly proclaims that there’s no way I can be with the person who I consider to be the most handsome teenager alive. “It’s not fair, Kei. Even if I can’t be his love interest, at least I can be on his team, right? Don’t rub it in my face like that…”

“Yeah, wish that upon the next star and I’ll wish the other way around.”

“Pfft, why are you so jealous? You’re probably going to be the antagonist. The heartless soldier. I hope a clicker kills you,” I say as I make sure that there’s no shooting star because there’s no way I want him to have that kind of fate.

Now I must think about something very crucial.

If the order of the alternate universe is the same as what we have now, then Kuroo will be in Tokyo, which means that I won’t be able to cross paths with him right from the start. But we have our training camps, which means that there’s a hope for us. Preferably, during the summer one in July because that’s when we’ll learn a few things about each other. That’s when I can finally call him a “friend”, rather than an “acquaintance” or “a _senpai_ that suffocates me, even when he’s not standing nearby”. Even better, if I’m born in his area and attended his school as the manager of his club.

“Oh. Another shooting star—”

“I wish that I can meet Kuroo-senpai during the outbreak.” Once more, I interrupt Kei with passion I’ve never known I had.

“…can you please stop wishing about zombie apocalypse? Wish for your study, health, or something else.”

“I can’t wish to get a good score without actually studying, so what’s the point? Hoping for the exams to be removed is also pointless,” I counter. “I thought the meteor shower would be streaming since it’s called a ‘shower’, but I guess we can only see one every few minutes.”

“Complain to God, not me.”

I grunt. “I wasn’t complaining! I was just sharing my feel—never mind!”

“Keep your eyes up there. You don’t want to miss anything,” Kei taps my back a couple of times before folding his arms on top of the railings. He’s too tall to conveniently rest himself since the railings have already reached my waist, so what he does is carefully bend his body forward. Even by doing so, my head is only level with his shoulders.

“Kei, you haven’t made your second wish. Please don’t wish that I won’t be able to meet Kuroo-senpai. Say something important—another one!” I cease when my eyes catch a long star with green tail. Since I thought that everything would either be white or blue, I’m amazed.

“There, another wish to make about him,” Kei mumbles.

“I wish that…” I turn my head towards Kei, bringing his gaze to meet mine. I suppose it’s a good idea if I stop messing around. I’m sure there will be twenty to thirty falling stars after this one, but I’ll be sleeping soon. I don’t think I can still wish upon stars that I don’t see since if that’s the case, I can just go to Youtube and watch thousands of meteor showers.

“What?” Kei asks because it’s extremely rare for me to stay quiet for more than five seconds.

I subconsciously shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just thinking that I want to spend longer time with you. I wish that… maybe we can be together until we’re one hundred years old?”

Kei snorts, ridiculing my statement. “Be realistic. We won’t live for that long.”

“Saying until we’re eighty-seven years old would be too specific!” I defend my stance. “What’s wrong with wishing to have a long life together with you? Who knows it’ll really come true? If we believe in something and work hard to reach it, we can get it. Everybody knows that.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but with all my heart, I don’t believe in stuff like this. Fortune teller, people who claim that they can read the future, ghosts, even things like personality based on your horoscope and blood type—I don’t believe any of them,” Kei tells me something that I’m not too surprised to hear. “What I’m doing right now is not because I like it. It’s because I want to satisfy you. Why don’t you save your breath for something else? You should realize that none of what you ask will come true, anyway.”

“Why can’t you have fun for once? That’s why you don’t have other friends beside me and Yamaguchi.” I shove two fingers right in front of his face. “You have two wishes. Say them before it’s too late.”

“Alright.” At the speed of light, he squeezes my smaller fingers. “I wish we can be in the same classroom again next year.”

My mouth agape since I can’t believe that the words I heard were said by the ruthless Tsukishima Kei. “That’s cool! I wish for that too, but not only next year! Forever!”

“Forever? Are you planning to stay in school forever? And it’s not your turn to—”

“What about your next wish?” I broadly grin as I feel Kei’s warmth leaving my hand, only for it to move to my cheeks as he decides to comb my short hair with the tips of his fingers. It’s been a while since the last time he did this to me. If my hair were still long, Kei would have an easier time playing with it.

Somehow, I kind of regret cutting it this short.

“I’m not sure,” Kei quietly admits, pulling his hand back. “I wish for a good score, wish for it not to rain tomorrow, wish for—I don’t know. Anything is good.”

“Then how about… for my hair to grow faster?” I suggest. “I won’t cut it until it goes back to the old length, but let’s wish for it to magically grow five times the normal speed.”

“Pretty sure I told you to be realistic, but whatever. As long as you’re happy, Princess.” He straightens up and pats my head before walking to the chair. He leaves me wonderstruck, as if he’s never touched me that way before. It’s really been a while since it happened. We didn’t speak for two weeks. He left me alone for longer than that.

“What I said before was real!” I stop from reaching the seat as he looks back at me with bigger eyes.

Kei curls his lips before parting his mouth, “Tell me… If right now you have the option to go back to the moment before you had your accident and save yourself, will you take it? In return, of course you wouldn’t attend Karasuno because Shiratorizawa’s for you.”

That’s an interesting question, especially since it’s coming from Kei. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if that could really come true? After all, it’s everything that I’ve ever dreamed of. I wanted to stay as long as possible on the court as a professional player. I wanted my parents to be happy. I wanted to live up to their fame and achievement. I happily shed my very own sweat and tears for years because I loved doing what I did. It wasn’t fair for my perfectly-planned future to be taken away like that. It was without my approval. I still can’t forgive the universe for doing this to me.

But to trade all of those with Kei? It doesn’t matter. I won’t need someone to walk me home because I’ll be staying in a dorm. Even if my parents tell me to visit them, I can ask Goshiki to go with me or I can just be alone since I’m used to travel everywhere by myself. I don’t need to worry about not having someone to teach me the subjects I loathe because Wakatoshi’s smart. I heard Semi’s capable of a few things too. I can come to them during the breaks or after class and study with them. No matter how I see it, it’s nothing less than a perfect scenario.

“No, thanks.” Unlike what my mind thinks of, my mouth chooses to follow my heart. It doesn’t feel right.

Kei breathes out a sigh, looking disenchanted. “Don’t be silly.”

“Huh? What do you want? I gave you my answer.”

“You’re saying that in order to please me.” Kei sits on the left chair, leaving the right one for me. “That’s not the truth.”

I let my face turn into a scowl. “What are you talking about? It’s the truth.”

“It’s not.”

“I swear it is!” I groan, feeling offended that Kei thinks my sincere decision is a lie because I just want to please him. If only there’s a way for us to switch body and mind so he’s able to know everything about me.

“Then you’re being stupid. You’re just like those people who don’t think ahead and mindlessly choose what will make them feel good now,” Kei clasps his hands and hangs them between his parted legs. “Never mind. Sorry for asking. Your fate can’t be changed, anyway.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a multiple personality disorder?” The more I speak, the more I can feel the lines on my forehead increasing from months of cumulative stress. There’s no other way to describe the way Kei changes his personality sixteen times an hour. Even someone moody can’t be this acute.

“Maybe I have. I don’t care either way.”

“Why did you even ask such thing if no matter what I said, you wouldn’t believe me?” My pitch raises. “Don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t. If I chose my Shiratorizawa friends, you’d be pissed.”

“Your last statement is correct.”

“Alright. Whatever. It’s hard discussing things with someone who can only be jealous towards someone else,” I end our foolish debate with a bitter taste in my mouth as I head to the chair beside Kei. Who would’ve thought that Kei only needs seconds to make me lose half my mood to continue watching the meteor shower. I have. He always has his outstanding way to ruin everything by creating a useless problem. Among ten fights we can have, he’ll start seven of them.

For a few minutes, we’re being soundless. Kei doesn’t seem to want to pick a topic and neither do I. It’s great that there’s no falling star because then we don’t need to think about what to say to each other. I lift one leg on the chair, hugging it. This isn’t fun anymore. Five minutes ago, we were being silly. We were having fun and my heart was filled with bliss since I could spend some quality time with Kei after being ignored for weeks. If I knew this would happen, I’d stay inside and continue playing my game. The atmosphere was better then.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Kei promptly says and before I get the chance to respond, he adds, “Why aren’t you sick of being with someone annoying like me?”

“I’m not going to answer that,” I dismiss the gloomy topic, shaking my head in disbelief. I can’t take this guy seriously. He’s been telling me that he’s in the brink of passing out. I wholly agree that he might need to sleep to refresh his corrupted brain.

* * *

“—ey. Hey, wake up.”

I open my eyes when I feel fingers aggressively poking my right cheek. My head feels very heavy that I want to yell at whoever is trying to wake me up, but reality strikes back when I see Kei’s face right in front of me, blocking the complete view of the breathtaking sky behind him. I remember that I’ve inwardly wished upon three falling stars before everything became fussy—for the fifteenth to not rain, for everyone’s health to stay good, and for my volleyball team to win the upcoming playoffs in October. At least I did some good and genuine effort on the last two.

“Let’s go back inside,” Kei tells me, grabbing the tray with the glasses of water that we haven’t drunk once.

I can’t bring myself to reply as I stand up from the chair, open the balcony door, and enter the room that feels colder than the last time I remembered it. Usually I’ll go to the bathroom to wash my oily face and do other necessary things before hoping onto my bed, but right now I don’t feel like it. I’m a sulky girl with a headache. I just want to hide under the blanket and recharge my mood for when my daily duty comes in the morning. My body is smart. If it requires something, it can wake me up by itself. I just don’t want to prolong Kei’s stay around me.

“Aren’t you going to brush your teeth?”

“Uh…” All I give Kei is a grunt that heavily implies my laziness to move away from here. Also, he needs to get out and go to his brother’s room. I don’t care if he hasn’t realized the effect of his behavior on me. Not like I ever expect him to.

Kei doesn’t immediately leave the place as he meanders around the room. Since my back is facing him, I can’t just open my eyes and find out what he’s currently doing. I can tell that he puts the tray on top of his study desk, most likely intending to bring it back to the kitchen in the morning. Maybe the thoughtful part of him that’s always there and never lost also thinks about what if I wake up and get thirsty in two hours from now. Then I hear some rustling sound behind me, which I assume is him meddling with some stuff under the TV stand. I saw some plastic bags being put in there, so that must be it.

“Are you already sleeping? Seriously, no one sleeps as fast as you do.” Kei walks to me, sitting on the side of the bed right beside my back while I keep my eyes shut and breathe as natural as possible. “Wow, she really looks bad with a short hair.”

It’s a good thing that I have no energy to spare since that equals to me not being able to jump from this bed and kick his groin until he whimpers in tears. He’s said that twenty times today. He doesn’t have to keep repeating it over and over again. But in some way, I can’t quite accept his subjective judgement. Semi is a stylist who has fixed thousands of hairs and he said that mine looks good. He’s not a mean person who’ll smile in front of me but then laugh the moment I turn my back. I also dislike the fact that Kei mocks Semi’s work of art. No one is allowed to do that, not even blind people.

I almost yelp when Kei shoves some strands of hair that fall on my cheek and nose, keeping them away from covering my face. I’m not sure I’m prepared to face what he’s going to do next, but this is a bit creepy. No one is supposed to touch other people when they’re not aware of it, but then again, I’m not being groped. I can’t just go to report him by saying that “Tsukishima Kei tucked some hair away from my face when I was sleeping”. And isn’t he being a bit careless? As a smart person, the possibility that I’m still awake must cross his mind. Am I really the fastest sleeper out there?

“There mustn’t be a secret between us. How stupid is that?” he continues, unexpectedly concerning me with the mellow tone and how his fingers travel on my bare cheek, caressing the surface with such delicacy. He’s done this kind of thing before. Rarely, but enough to prove me of how sweet and sublime he can be if he wants to.

It’s not long when Kei pulls my blanket up and protects my shoulders from the coldness that I hope could be turned up a number, but I’ll do it myself when he’s away. He goes silent once he’s sure that I’m well-sheltered, which I believe is spent by him staring at me or the ceiling like his life is full of misery. Then I can feel him shifting his position, only a moment before there’s a significant warmth blowing against my ear. I don’t have a chance to think to what it is when he lands a kiss on my cheek and my heart spontaneously races upon feeling the wetness between the gap of the lips that he doesn’t close properly. As if it’s not enough, he lifts his head to give the same sign of love on my forehead, just above my right eyebrow.

“Sleep well,” he whispers before gently stroking my head for one last time. He gets up from the bed to turn off the lamp beside the bedroom door. Just like that, he leaves the room with almost no sound behind.

I stay in place, hands clutching near my chest like they want to break each other. I know it wasn’t a dream. I just got two kisses from Kei. My skin burns from the remainder of his affection and it’s a lie if I say that I want to let go of it. I don’t want to let go of it. I recollect everything—the shape of his jaw, the distance between his nose to everything else, the way he somehow nibbles me with the tips of his lips. How am I supposed to sleep when my head is filled with rapture?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~THOSE WHO LOVE BABY WAKA DON’T KILL ME~~
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, I’m looking for some free beta-readers. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this months ago since I’m such a slow reader. Proofreading 10k words can take me an entire day (I’m not kidding!). Lately I’ve been procrastinating a lot because I just want to rest my brain after writing so much, so I often just waste days before I update a chapter. :(
> 
> Requirements (besides that you should understand English very well):  
> 1\. You understand each character’s personality, behavior, and consistency in their actions.  
> 2\. You’re VERY precise. I beat myself up over a missing comma, so you should too (?).  
> 3\. You don’t feel bad to point out mistakes, but you must always be reasonable. Do mind that I write in AmE.  
> 4\. You reply to messages FAST. If I ask whether you’re ready to beta that day and you reply after 3 days, that’ll break my heart. :(  
> 5\. Bonus: If you can also beta my BNHA fic. :D
> 
> If you want to volunteer, you can email me at itskohi@yahoo.com, but I prefer it more if you can message me on Twitter/Tumblr. Just write “Hi, I want to become your beta reader”, then please state your name (alias is okay), AO3 account if you have one, your home country, time zone, and/or mother language, and whether you can help me with the BNHA fic or not.
> 
>  **But how to beta the story?**  
>  I’ll send the file to you and what you have to do is highlight the errors and then leave some comments like this:  
>   
> You’re also encouraged to tell me if you think that a paragraph can be restructured or entirely deleted.
> 
> Thank you so much. Until next time~ ❤


	49. The Reason They Fall pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So… why are you staring at me like that? Is there something wrong?” At last, Kei’s sharp perception gets to him.
> 
> I bite my lower lip as I avert my eyes. My brain keeps sorting out the best sentence to choose. I try to say a word, but all that comes out is an “uh”. Maybe I should go along with my first plan, which is to explain it just as it is. _Kei, I was awake last night. I knew it when you kissed me twice, but you don’t have to worry about it._ But what if it’s better if I just shut my mouth and forget about this? That way, no one will be embarrassed—maybe I will, but not for too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for being gone and also sorry that this chapter is short. I rewrote it for 6-7 times because I wanted to cut two chapters into one, just to save time. It was really a challenge. ;_;
> 
> Beta Reader(s): Allison, Carl 50%, and Neo. Thank you!
> 
> Happy reading!

It feels like someone pushed me off a skyscraper when my alarm wakes me up with a jolt. I angrily tap the phone beside my pillow, turning off the sound that often gives me headache. I wish I could freely decide when I want to start and end my day, but too bad the world isn’t wrapped around my finger. With a yawn, I sit on the bed, trying to acquire back every piece of my soul that insists that I haven’t gotten enough rest.

The color blue is apparent behind the closed curtain of the balcony door and the octagon window beside it. The breeze produced by the air conditioner is a little too loud. The sweet scent that belongs to Kei is stuck around my face, reminding me that I just spent hours sleeping with the pillow and blanket he used the other night.

I can’t help but remember what Kei did to me before he left this room. It was a good thing that I was able to fall asleep because honestly, I thought I couldn’t. I thought I would waste my entire resting time by wondering if there was more to the way he caressed me or if I needed to plan the perfect first sentence that I’d say the moment we met in the morning.  My heart wasn’t supposed to quiet down because I was in pure bliss, but stupidly enough, it did. My ability to instantly sleep anywhere knows no boundaries.

A few languid blinks later, I finally unlock my phone, opening LINE and seeing a few personal messages from Wakatoshi, as expected. Before I check on him, I choose to read the many messages from our group chat. The conversation about Paris between everyone—besides Goshiki, Shirabu, and Semi who fell asleep—began at around two our time, exactly after Wakatoshi sent us five pictures that seem like they were taken from Google images. It could’ve been because of his camera quality, but perhaps Paris has its own magical effect on how we perceive them.

The first one is of an airport with a dome ceiling and rectangular skylights. The second one is when he was outside the building, within countless people with different hair and skin colors. The third and fourth ones are of when he arrived in front of a pale brown-painted hotel that looks like a European historical apartment I saw once on TV. The fifth one is the inside of his cream and red hotel room, where there are two single beds, a long table and two chairs, a wall-mounted TV, a sofa, a small coffee table with complimentary drinks, and some more basic things that people always got when they stay in a hotel.

One thing that fascinates me the most is the light blue sky surrounding the sceneries. It was around six p.m. when he arrived in Paris, yet it appears like it was in the middle of the day. As someone whose farthest destination she’s ever gone to is Tokyo that’s only two hours away by train from her hometown, I’m blind about how the world out there works. My knowledge only goes as far as the understanding of time zones and where each continent is located on the map. Other than that? I just recently found out that Brazil is in South America and not Europe.

Those who were available in the group chat during that time only talked about was how fancy and pretty the sceneries were. Kawanishi repeated his words of envy towards Wakatoshi’s opportunity to visit Paris. Tendou suggested the places that he must visit when he has the chance. The others reminded him to take more pictures and buy a lot of souvenirs for them. Reon was the only one who said that he was glad his best friend had arrived safe and sound. No one mentioned the color of the sky. Maybe they were too sleepy to notice or they did notice, but were too lazy to talk about it.

My curiosity forces me to not write anything in the group chat and read what Wakatoshi has left me. People can wait, but Wakatoshi who’s currently on the other side of the world won’t be able to.

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_Thank you 01:47 AM_  
_I just arrived in Paris and it’s very packed here 01:47 AM_  
_Are you sleeping now? You’re supposed to be 01:47 AM_  
_[Sent a picture.] 01:49 AM_  
_Air France gave me bread with raspberry jam 01:49 AM_  
_[Sent a picture.] 01:49 AM_  
_What I had for dinner. Bread, butter, potato gratin with beef, sliced apples and melons. I was still hungry, so my teammate gave me his bread because he didn’t like it 01:49 AM_  
_I’m going to send you pictures of what I’m going to have this evening 01:49 AM_  
_I just read the group chat 01:55 AM_  
_So you’re having a sleepover at Tsukishima’s. Did you watch the meteor shower with him? I don’t mind if you do. I just read about the meteor shower. Did you watch it by yourself? I’m sorry I can’t be there, but we can do it together next year 01:55 AM_  
_You’re usually awake at 8, which will be 1 my time. I’m not sure if I can stay up until that late, but I’ll try 01:55 AM_  
_We’re having dinner at the hotel’s restaurant 03:28 AM_  
_[Sent a picture.] 03:28 AM_  
_Only a rib steak with roasted potatoes 03:28 AM_  
_[Sent a picture.] 03:28 AM_  
_It tastes very good. It’s called “Melon Chiller”. You’ll love it 03:28 AM_  
_I’m going to rest for a bit. I really want to have a call with you, but I understand if we can’t 03:28 AM  
_

Pictures of his food. Pictures of our food.

I want to jump from the balcony because I forgot to take a picture of what I ate after the box of sushi at the airport. My dinner—or late-night snack—was Kei’s mother’s onigiri. It wasn’t diverse like what Wakatoshi had, but I know I can’t use this inconsiderate excuse as a reason to break our promise. Then again, I shouldn’t be too dramatic since it’s Wakatoshi. What is he going to do if I tell him the truth? Yell at me? Block me? Never talk to me anymore? No. He’ll understand and move on. There’s nothing to hold me back from answering him. 

On the other hand, I’m not sure if I should worry or be happy because no one besides him will ever take me this seriously when we make a promise to photograph our food and send it to each other, just to keep tabs on whether we take care of ourselves or not. He’s even taking it to a greater extent by sending me the smallest things like a bread with jam. I won’t be surprised if he’s going to do the same with a piece of candy, which to be fair is very adorable. At least I should be glad that he only sent me one picture per meal, not from five different angles.

 _Me_  
_ 07:04 AM Happy birthday in Paris, Wakatoshi!_  
_07:04 AM_   
_07:05 AM_ _Are you still awake?_  
_ 07:05 AM Your food looks delicious_

I haven’t even taken another breath when Wakatoshi reads my chat.

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_Hello 07:05 AM_  
_I thought you wouldn’t be awake 07:05 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_07:05 AM_   
_07:05 AM Did I wake you up or have you been awake???_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_I’ve been awake 07:05 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:05 AM _

_ Wakatoshi _  
_I’ve been waiting for you 07:05 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:05 AM It’s midnight there!_  
_ 07:05 AM When do you have to wake up?_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_There’s nothing to do tomorrow besides practicing and some briefings from the coach. The opening ceremony will start on the 14th 07:06 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:06 AM Tomorrow? You mean today?_  
_ 07:06 AM It’s already the 13th for you_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_Ah, you’re right 07:06 AM_  
_We’ll leave the hotel at 10. Breakfast is from 6 until 10. I have plenty of time to be with you 07:06 AM_  
_07:06 AM_  
_Can we have a call? 07:06 AM_

 _ Me _  
_ 07:06 AM Are you telling the truth?_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_I am 07:06 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:06 AM Really?_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_I’ll take a picture of my schedule tomorrow. My coach has the paper with him 07:07 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:07 AM You mean today?_  
  
_07:07 AM_

_ Wakatoshi _  
_That hurts 07:07 AM  
_

_Me_   
_07:07 AM Eh, what?  
_

_Wakatoshi_   
_You lie on me 07:07 AM  
_

_Me_  
_07:07 AM_ _Oh! Hahaha_  
_07:07 AM_ _How cute, Wakatoshi~_  
_ 07:07 AM Will your roommate be okay if we have a phone call?_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_He’s sleeping. It’s hard to wake him up 07:07 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:08 AM Are you really telling the truth?_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_Yes 07:08 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:08 AM Can I say something first?_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_Yes? 07:08 AM  
_

_ Me _  
_ 07:08 AM I forgot to take a picture of my dinner_  
_ 07:08 AM It was Kei’s mom’s onigiri, nothing special_  
_ 07:08 AM I’m really sorry_

 _ Wakatoshi _  
_It’s alright 07:08 AM  
_

_ Me _  
07:08 AM   
_ 07:08 AM You’re the best!_  
_07:08 AM I’ll send you what I have for breakfast_

 _Wakatoshi_  
_07:09 AM_

 _ Me _  
_ 07:09 AM Call me_

Wakatoshi apparently has a hard time telling the difference between a “call” and “video call” because what’s displayed on my screen is the latter. Besides my family and the female managers who I spent time with at the training camps, I’ve never shown my puffy morning face to any random person, especially a guy. I don’t need a mirror to know that my hair looks like a bird’ nests and my face is covered with oil. Like a crazy person, I frantically wipe my face with Kei’s blanket, comb my hair with my fingers, take Kei’s earphones from his desk, switch on the lights in the room, then finally crawl back into the bed and pick up the call.

“Hi, sorry! I was cleaning myself and looking for earphones!” I slightly whisper since I can’t wake the people in the nearby rooms. Wakatoshi looks very tired as he sits in a single red sofa. There’s a dark brown curtain behind him and I wonder if I can see the beauty of Paris behind the covering.

“It’s been a while.” He sounds more lethargic that he looks. He always has this one-dimensional expression that’s as flat as a board, but right now he seems to almost be lifeless. As someone who’s spent hours staring at him, I can tell that he’s having a hard time trying to keep his eyes open. His sight isn’t too focused either.

“It’s only been a day, not ‘a while’,” I recall the same dialogues that occurred a few weeks back. “Happy birthday again. Are you going to do something with your teammates?”

“Thank you, but what do you mean with the last part?” Wakatoshi asks back, genuinely looking puzzled.

“I don’t know. Have a birthday dinner maybe? Don’t they know that today is your birthday?”

Wakatoshi pauses to deeply think about something—presumably my simple question—before answering, “I’m not sure.”

“Then you should tell them, although it’s going to be awkward to suddenly come and say ‘hey today is my birthday’. That’ll be out of character. That’s not you.”

“Not me?”

I snort with laughter over Wakatoshi’s slow-processing brain. “Never mind. How’s Paris?”

“It’s hard to tell because I haven’t been anywhere besides the airport and the hotel, but it’s been nice so far. The people are friendly and I’m no longer the tallest person around. At one point, our coach had a slight misunderstanding with a porter because none of them understands English that well, but our translator came to our rescue,” he speaks like he’s presenting a report. “I wish I had a better understanding of English myself, so I could’ve helped them myself.”

“Why do you always feel bad about the most absurd things? People don’t expect us to be fluent in English. We’re popular for being hilariously awful at it,” I mock my own country for two reasons; to make myself and Wakatoshi feel better and to learn how to accept myself. I don’t know who has a better tongue between French people and Japanese people, but ninety-nine percent of us definitely struggle with the universal language.

“I guess so, and you look beautiful with that hair.”

I grip the tips of my hair, embracing the butterflies in my stomach. “Really? Thanks! I really needed to hear that. Kei kept saying that I look bad and I was a bit insulted.”

Wakatoshi’s face stiffens. “Why did he say that?”

“No, it was just a joke!” I blurt out, not wanting him to misunderstand my sort of healthy relationship with Kei. “He didn’t mean it. We were just playing around. He’s always like that. Don’t worry. I wasn’t insulted for real.”

“You weren’t insulted for real?” Wakatoshi gives me his usual I-don’t-get-it look.

“Nothing! Don’t mind what I said!” I drop the subject for good. “Anyway, did you read the group chat about the meteor shower?”

Wakatoshi nods as an affirmation. “Did you watch it?”

“I did with Kei, but not for long before I fell asleep. I think for only less than thirty minutes—”

Two knocks on the door stopped me from talking. Wakatoshi seems to hear it as well since he goes quiet as the door’s opened, showing Kei’s mother in a long sleeve black pajama dress with white sparkly buttons. She looks pretty, but I’m not sure if she’ll take a childish praise from a little girl like me. If anything, I would tell her that she and her husband have aged well. They are the reason why Kei and Akiteru are blessed with a baby face that’ll make them look like teenagers even when they’re in their thirties.

“Good morning,” I greet Kei’s mother, setting aside the other things that I can say another time.

“Good morning.” She shows me the warmest smile like she hasn’t seen me in years. “Let’s get some breakfast. Kei’s already waiting in the dining room.”

“Oh, it’s early…” I note the fact that I thought we’d have breakfast at eight and go to school fifty minutes afterwards. Not like I really mind eating something right now because I’m a bit hungry after going almost twelve hours with only mineral water.

“Go wash your face first. There’s a clean towel for you in the bathroom downstairs,” Kei’s mother says before closing the door. She’s a bit in a hurry, maybe to wake other people or to continue preparing food for the entire family plus one.

“Do you want to leave?” Wakatoshi asks as our eyes meet through the screen once again. Even if we’re connected by a phone call, the quality is good enough to let him overhear the conversation I had with Kei’s mother—

“Um, yeah,” I halfheartedly respond because I’m not imagining the disappointment I see on Wakatoshi’s face. He does this all the time, always making me feel bad for even thinking of not giving him enough of my time. It’s like I’m an astronaut who’s been away for months and this is our very first phone call after such a long time.

“Can’t we talk for a bit more?” As expected, Wakatoshi pleads with the sincere tone and expression he always has. “Ten more minutes is okay. We’ve been talking for less than five, it’s not—”

“It’s not enough, I know!” I finish his sentence with a laugh. “I’ll stay here for fifteen more minutes. If someone comes for me, I’m going to tell them to wait because I’m having a phone call. Only fifteen more minutes because you need to sleep. You don’t look good at all.”

“Okay,” Wakatoshi agrees and it relieves me.

* * *

I thought Kei’s mother or Kei himself would knock on my room and drag me along with them, but no one does. Perhaps they’re too busy filling their stomach with whatever is prepared on the table or they understand that there’s more than enough time for me to do what I want to before I’m ready to join them in the dining room.

After saying goodbye to Wakatoshi, I open my bag to find my cleanser and toothbrush. That’s when I realize that I’ve forgotten to give Tsukishima family the box of _senbei_ from my father and there’s a person who’s taken care of it. My best and only guess is Kei. I don’t remember him bringing it out yesterday, so he must’ve been here sometime before I woke up. I know he’s not a heavy sleeper like me, but his own will to wake up this early should be applauded. Even when we’re in a bus, he always opens his eyes on time while most of us require to be shouted at by our coach or teacher.

Following what Kei’s mother told me to do, I go to bathroom that’s located in the corner of the hall on the first floor. Quite different than my own house, there’s a spacey laundry room before the actual bathroom. On top of the washing machine, there’s a clean folded yellow face towel that must’ve been prepared for me. I grab the towel and wash my face in the sink built before the bathroom’s door, brush my teeth, hang the damp towel on a rack full of other towels, and do a few more things before finally heading to the dining room.

I’m surprised when Kei’s the only person waiting for me while calmly sipping a cup of something sweet because I know that he never wants to drink stuff like black coffee. He sits on one of the four chairs surrounding a table full of ingredients for a simple homemade burger and some more. I’ve never had this kind of breakfast in my family because we prefer to eat rice with meat and soup, but I don’t care much about it. All I can think about now is how to present myself in front of Kei. I must look like my normal self, but my uncontrollable heart beat is on the brink of betraying me.

“What took you so long?” Thankfully, Kei’s the one who initiates a conversation.

“Ah.” I snap back from my troubled mind as I make my way to sit across from him. “Sorry. I had a phone call.”

“I see.” His gaze falls onto the table as he puts his cup down. “I’ll get you a glass and a plate.”

“Yeah… Thanks.”

As Kei stands up and walks to the kitchen area, I begin fiddling with the fingers I hide under the table, just on top of my lap. I hope Kei can’t detect my uneasiness because this might be the first time in my life where I can’t stop staring at him. The breadth of his back has increased since the moment I saw him the first time five months ago. I heard boys will grow faster when they’re at the peak of their puberty, but he’s developed too fast for a sixteen year old. I smile when he effortlessly opens the kitchen cabinet that’s almost as tall as him, while people like Yachi might need a stool for that.

“My mother’s going to a market nearby. My father’s gone to work at six. My brother’s still sleeping. In case you’re wondering,” Kei informs me, each hand holding a white plate and transparent glass, similar to what I had last night. “What do you want to drink? We have milk, apple juice, tea, coffee.”

“Apple juice sounds good.”

“Alright.” Kei opens the refrigerator door to take out a carton with red apples printed on it and fill the glass on the counter until it’s almost full. Once he’s done, he walks back to the table and puts down everything I need.

“Thanks.” I bring my hands to the table, ready to make myself a burger. I start with a half bun, then mustard, a patty that seems to be beef, a slice of lettuce and tomato, then another bun to finish the assembly. It looks dense and thin compared to a real burger from a popular chain, but the taste should be decent enough.

“Good thing we don’t have any egg because you would definitely add it on the burger,” Kei makes a remark on my antics as he holds his cup and drinks it.

I can only produce a small breathy giggle. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I’ve been snacking on the sausages.”

“Ah, did you go to my room to take the _senbei_ when I was sleeping?” I quickly change the subject simply because I remember it. This won’t come the second time.

“Yeah. There.” He points at me and I look behind, spotting a familiar box on top of the coffee table near the sofa where Akiteru and I sat on yesterday. “Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything to you.”

I look back at Kei, swearing to myself that I can’t handle this one-sided discomfort any longer. I need to ask him about last night. I think I’m quite smart in the way I talk to people. I know how to speak. I should be able to find the right words within the small amount of time before Kei notices my behavior and ruins my focus. I can be straight to the point and get done with this fast. I can say that I was still awake when he kissed my cheek and forehead. Whatever his reaction will be, I’ll tell him that it’s alright. We’re friends.

“So… why are you staring at me like that? Is there something wrong?” At last, Kei’s sharp perception gets to him.

I bite my lower lip as I avert my eyes. My brain keeps sorting out the best sentence to choose. I try to say a word, but all that comes out is an “uh”. Maybe I should go along with my first plan, which is to explain it just as it is. _Kei, I was awake last night. I knew it when you kissed me twice, but you don’t have to worry about it._ But what if it’s better if I just shut my mouth and forget about this? That way, no one will be embarrassed—maybe I will, but not for too long.

Kei clicks his tongue as loud as he can. “What is it?”

“Do you kiss me often?”

Total silence.

My inner self screams at me, calling me the world’s biggest idiot for carelessly picking a question that wasn’t even in my mind a minute ago. My only defense is that I couldn’t control myself because I was under pressure. I don’t mean to blame Kei, but he can be very intimidating sometimes. He won’t let me say that there’s nothing because it’s obvious that something’s bugging me. The eeriness lasts for a couple more seconds before I muster enough courage to glance up, only to find an expression that doesn’t surprise me that much.

Unlike his natural talents in other subjects, Kei is never good in hiding his true feelings. Everything is always written all over his face or seen in the way he conducts himself around other people. When he doesn’t mean his rude words, when he’s laughing while in pain, when he’s in a bad mood but reluctant to tell anyone—I almost always guess them right. Same as now, when he’s flustered because I caught what he did to me. We uncomfortably look into each other’s eyes and I know the only reason he doesn’t run away right at this very moment is because he doesn’t want to look like a loser.

“I’m sorry.” It startles me when Kei’s the one who speaks first with a voice that sounds unsure and a little terrifying. “I was tired. I didn’t know what I was doing. Let’s not talk about this anymore. Go eat your food. I’m going to make more tea.”

It’s true that Kei has no drink left inside of his cup, but he should understand that he just used a lame excuse to flee to the kitchen. What does he mean by being tired and not knowing what he was doing? He could be sleepy, but he wasn’t drunk. He didn’t lose his common sense. Me from before would love to drop this subject, but I’ve changed my mind. My bun’s already cold anyway, so I rise up, making scraping sound to alert Kei of what I’m about to do.

“You know I can’t just… forget… right?” I push back my chair. “Let’s talk about this. It’s going to get weird if we don—”

“What do you want me to say?” Kei growls, glaring at me over his shoulder like I’ve made a mistake. “I’ve apologized. I won’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I meant! My best friend kissed my cheek and forehead and told me that he never wants to hurt me. If you were me, wouldn’t you do the same? I want to know the real reason behind that!”

“I… couldn’t help myself.” The muscles around Kei’s forehead tightened up. “I saw your sleeping face and I couldn’t help myself. There you have it.”

The world around me freezes as I process the confession that I’m sure is the honest one. As I bring myself together, I take a long deep breath. Something’s squeezing my chest, but it isn’t bad. I feel like I’ve experienced such feeling a few times before because of Kei, but this time it’s stronger. I can’t help myself when I walk closer to the guy who says that he wants to make tea, but all he’s done so far is stay glued in place. The only thing that moves is his eyes, following my step like he’s going to lose a war if I catch him flinching.

“And?” I form the littlest smile possible. “Was last night the first time you did it?”

Without answering, Kei leaves my side by opening one of the kitchen drawers and grabbing a tea bag. He puts it inside his cup and fills it with hot water from the dispenser. Then he reaches for the glass container of sugar next to the sink, adding two heaping teaspoons of the sweetener and stirring it quite loudly. He walks to and fro without minding me, like I all of a sudden disappear from this tiny space.  

“So… it wasn’t?” I guess, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter behind me. “Look, I’m still not angry, but will you tell me how many times you’ve done it?”

“Please stop, you’re humiliating me.” Kei stops the circular movement of his fingers, resulting in yet another silence in this room.

“Humiliating? I don’t mean—then will it make you feel better if I tell you that I don’t mind it…?” I claim. “What I’m trying to say is that as long as it’s you, I don’t mind… so please don’t feel too bad about doing… that…”

After a short pause that seems like centuries, Kei faintly snorts. “As long as it’s me…? What’s that?”

My heart twitches as I crush my hands. I need to ask myself the same question. Why’s that? Is it because we’re good friends? But will I be able to say the same about Goshiki? If one day Kei wraps his arms around me from behind, I probably won’t mind. If Goshiki does that, I’m going to punch him. If Kei buys me fresh roses, I’ll preserve them inside a vase and change the water periodically. If Goshiki does that, I’ll laugh and consider him as a joke or that someone else has asked him to give the roses to me. If I say that I see Kei the same way as I see my other friends, it’s a lie.

Soon enough, I can’t handle the way Kei stares at me with a hopeful, yet painful look. I even hate myself for not getting the meaning behind his actions at the first try. I begin trailing the zig-zag shape of the maroon kitchen tiles beneath my bare feet, just so I can escape the heat between us even if it’s just for a minute. I can’t believe the person I’ve become; how I wish to stay with him for as long as possible and how I wasn’t playing around when I chose meeting him over not having my accident. My world without his sarcastic side and subtle kindness would be so boring.

“We can’t hide anything from each other.” Before I can think of a response, Kei recites the most important promise we made. I’m still not brave enough to look back into his eyes, but I can tell that he’s lost the seemingly continual struggle to convey the voice he has inside of his mind.

I shake my head, chewing on the edge of my lips. “We can’t…”

“I’ve kissed you plenty of times. If you want a number, then it must be more than thirty,” he admits before pausing to prepare himself for his next words. “I kissed you when you were sleeping in the train. You could sleep in three seconds and it was always empty, so I kissed you when you weren’t aware and no one was watching. I kissed you once when we were going to Tokyo the first time. Everyone was sleeping and Takeda-sensei who was driving didn’t notice us. I want to kiss you whenever I have the chance to because I love you.”

I’m not in control when my breathing becomes short and emotions blast through my mind like a cannonball. All at once, everything becomes clearer. From all the things people around us have said, Kei genuinely loving me more than a friend was always on the back of my mind. I used to have many excuses, ranging from me seeing him as a brother and I don’t date my own brother to me not believing it if he doesn’t say it himself. It’s here now. The reason why he kissed me last night and on the many days before is because he loves me.

“What a… powerful statement… I don’t… I don’t know what to say…” My lips stutter with every syllable I speak and my cheeks can’t stop heating up. I must say something better than this, but I don’t know what. I’m also afraid if Kei’s mother or someone else enters this room and halts our conversation because I can’t live through another series of awkward exchanges like nothing’s going on. A big part of me would teleport to another planet right at this moment if it could.

Kei takes two steps forward until he’s right in front of me. “I’m sorry, did I ruin everything?”

I heave the most intense sigh I’ve ever made before lifting my head, watching the hint of disappointment clouding Kei’s face. “No… but I’m just processing this…”

Kei brings his right hand next to my waist. “Hold my hand.”

“Why?” I question him, yet still do what he tells me. We look down to witness how he takes the lead to interlace our fingers together. I don’t refuse his warmth. I’ve never slapped his hand away whenever he touches me, so why should I do it now?

“Does it feel any different now that you know?” he asks gently.

I laugh, presumably as my unconscious attempt to prevent my heart from racing even further. “No. Not at all. Still the same Kei.”

“Same. Still the same you.” He tightens his grip once before letting me go. “Come on, let’s finish your breakfast—”

“Wait.” I pull the back of Kei’s shirt. “Why don’t you ask for an answer?”

Kei’s lips part before they turn into a smile. “What’s your answer then?”

“I cherish you a lot, Kei. I know we’re young and those adults will call this feeling a childish infatuation, but I this isn’t your typical ‘I have my eyes on you because you’re handsome’. I don’t want you to be away from me. When I’m happy, I want you to feel that with me. When I’m at my lowest point, I want to run to you,” I explain, words flowing out of me like water. “However… I’m not sure… My parents don’t allow me to date anyone either, so… I don’t know…”

“I knew you’d say that you aren’t sure. You need to understand that I’m not asking us to be together right now, but your parents’ permission isn’t the number one reason why,” Kei corrects me. “You aren’t sure because I’m not your ideal guy. You aren’t going to choose a non-professional volleyball player who can’t afford giving you a big house as your partner. There are a few missing pieces that I don’t have. You’re unlucky to have met me, you know. I don’t deserve you.”

I can’t counter Kei’s simplification of my actual feelings that he could read so easily, so I choose to skip everything and speak of the only thing I know is true, “You’re changing, Kei. Don’t tell me I haven’t noticed it. Not only in volleyball, but you’ve become kinder.”

Kei sighs before turning around, grabbing his cup of tea, and walking towards the dining table. “You shouldn’t spend another night here. I’ll tell my family that you’re going out with your parents. I can no longer have you in my room. I need time and I’m sure you feel the same.”

“…I understand,” I comply with his decision, although there are many more things that I’ve yet to ask him.

Since when did he love me? What did he feel every time we had a fight? Did he only kiss my cheeks and forehead? What has he gone through until he could shred off the fear of being honest to someone? Can he guarantee that our silly relationship and funny bickers won’t change? How am I supposed to continue playing _The Last of Us_ if I can’t enter his room anymore? Tanaka and Sawamura own a PlayStation, but won’t it be strange for me to randomly come to their place for this when we aren’t that close to begin with?

But just like what I’ve been saying, if there’s one non-blood related person on this earth with whom I’d prefer to spend the rest of my life with, the answer will be Tsukishima Kei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed “I love you” to “I like you” and back to “I love you” again. PERHAPS, JUST PERHAPS, the actual title is The Reason They Fall (In Love). ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Team Waka don’t kill me. He’s going to have his time soon, I promise.~~


	50. Paper Lantern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Semi-san.” I grab the cloth covering Semi’s left hand, stopping him as he turns around and sees me. “Is it okay if we walk together?”
> 
> “Walk together?” Semi gives me the same look as Goshiki’s, which means that after all, the problem lies within my phrasing.
> 
> “I literally mean what I said!” I shout out of embarrassment. “I want to walk together with you. Don’t put your offerings alone. I want to see you put your offer—seriously! Everything I say sounds weird now!”
> 
> It’s a challenge for Semi not to laugh as hard as he can, shown by how the corners of his mouth quiver quite a bit. “Uh, um. It’s okay, I get what you mean. Let’s go.”
> 
> “Are you sure? It’s not weird?” I ask because I don’t want him to say yes by force when all he wants is to be alone.
> 
> “Why would it be weird?”
> 
> “Then stop laughing!”
> 
> “I’m not laughing.”
> 
> “Fine!” I shout as I stride forward, leaving Semi who in no time walks right next to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I miss you all. I feel like it’s been 3 years since I was here. -///-
> 
> I don’t have a lot to say about this chapter, but this is Semi-centric and I want to personally thank the lovely Nadja for helping (guiding?) me. The pacing might be too fast because I had a hard time finishing it.
> 
> I was listening to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCSP1pWse1Q) a lot. It’s very calming. :3
> 
> Happy reading~

* * *

As much as I want to believe that things will be normal between me and Kei, I can’t. It’s only been two days since he told me that he loves me and I already plan to ditch the entire summer club activity by saying that I’m visiting family in another region.

There’s always this tension whenever he stands next to me, even if the one he’s talking to is someone else. My heart feels like splitting open whenever he walks over, even if all he asks is for a clean towel. When he taps my back so we can have lunch with Yamaguchi, I act like I’ve never heard his voice before. I try to maintain the flow of our conversation with some jokes that I’ll definitely say, but oftentimes I end up listening more than speaking. I suppose my acting is quite good since no one asks for the problem I might have, but I’m not sure how long it will last for.

The worst part is when I find myself feeling extremely grateful that I leave the school three hours earlier than him. We don’t have to spend time waiting at the train station because there’ll only be this silence between us. I don’t want to worry about whether I should open my eyes or fake sleeping during the ride. When it happens, I’ll most likely choose the latter because the first option equals to more problems. Him thinking that I grant him permission to continue what he’s done for months is better than him thinking that I don’t allow him to kiss me anymore.

Even right now when I stand in front of the full-length mirror of my room, my focus isn’t fully on the attire I’m wearing. The yukata wrapping my body is white with sporadic large black and pink flower patterns all over it. A wrong obi can ruin the whole look, but mine is okay since it’s no more than a simple plain dark pink with no other ornaments on it. I bought the set last year, so I don’t have to worry too much about it being tighter and shorter. People won’t mock me when they spot the bare skin a couple centimeters above my ankles. I can’t stop myself from growing up. What’s important is that I don’t look awful at all.

The question now is whether I should take a picture of myself and send it to Kei. I’ve done it a lot of times before. I asked him to judge my outfit because although derogatory, he’s always honest and won’t say stuff just to please me. When I glance towards my bed, I see Yue snuggling and biting the Toothless plushie that I got from Kei. I beam with joy because it’s my first time witnessing this. I grab my phone from the top of my desk and record a video, just because I don’t want to miss this chance. Besides, I know that my phone can’t capture a shaky scene that well.

At the one minute mark, I end the recording and play the video to check the quality before sending it to Kei. This will be our very first chat after I left his house. I press the back button that puts me in the tab of other cats because I don’t want to instantly read his reply like I’m waiting for it. Just when I think to open the ever so loud Shiratorizawa group chat that I haven’t read since this morning, Kei sends a message, making my heart leap for a second. I take a deep as I click on his chat. It’s hilarious that I still feel this strange feeling, even when we aren’t standing in front of each other.

_Kei_  
_Cute 4:06 PM  
_

I type back some words, trying to be as natural as possible. Kei’s the one who should act shyly because he’s the one who confessed to me. There’s nothing different in the way he treats me, so why should I worry? I’m not the one in a pinch here.

_Me_  
_ 4:06 PM Right?_  
_ 4:06 PM It’s his first time playing with a toy like that_  
_ 4:06 PM I think it’s because I just gave it to him this morning and I wasn’t home to watch him_  
_ 4:07 PM And I never gave him a toy before…_

_Kei_  
_When will you go to the Obon? 4:07 PM  
_

I grunt. He often skips my previous messages and jumps to another topic, but I’m so used to this that I’m not even angry anymore. Still a bit, but not as much as months ago.

 _ Me_  
_ 4:07 PM I’m waiting for my father to come home and drive me to Semi-san’s house_

 _ Kei _  
_Then you’ll ride a train to Matsushima? 4:07 PM  
_

_ Me_  
_ 4:07 PM No, my father’s bringing us to the festival_  
_ 4:07 PM We’re heading to Sendai to pick everyone first_

 _ Kei _  
_Are you wearing a yukata? 4:08 PM  
_

My first automatic response is to write “yes”, but I delete the word and change it to what’s more like a conversation between me and Kei.

 _ Me_  
_ 4:08 PM Why do you ask?_  
_ 4:08 PM Want to see? ;)_

I expect Kei to say “gross”, “no”, or any other form of rejection, but what I get is nothing. My heart drops to the ground as I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at my dim screen like I’m waiting to get good news from the job interview that’ll change my future and the life of people around me. LINE doesn’t have a feature to see if someone’s currently typing or not, so I hope he doesn’t leave me hanging like usual. This isn’t the right moment to do it. It’s going to feel like I’m rejected and that’s the most humiliating thing he can do to me.

_Kei_  
_Take a pretty picture 4:08 PM  
_

I stop panicking as my heart rate slowly goes back to its normal state. It does feel weird to get a sweet reply that’s far from what I’ve anticipated, but I won’t think too much about it. I walk to the front of my mirror, positioning myself in the most presentable angle before snapping some pictures. First, I simply stand with a cheeky smile. Second, I turn one hundred and thirty-five degrees to the left, showing a part of my back and side. Third, I take a selfie of my face and chest, attempting to look as cute as possible. All I applied to my face was powder and a soft pink lipstick, so there’s no chance for Kei to insult me by saying that I look ten years older than my age.

_Kei_  
_Don’t you have a kanzashi? Your hair bores me 4:09 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:09 PM I do, but my hair is too short to be made into a bun or braid_  
_ 4:09 PM It doesn’t look good if I just put it on the side of my head_

 _Kei_  
_Who told you to cut your hair? 4:09 PM_  
_4:09 PM_

_Me_  
_ 4:09 PM Shut up_  
_ 4:09 PM I don’t look bad, do I?_

_Kei_  
_I’ll say yes so you’ll stop asking 4:09 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:09 PM Mean!_  
_ 4:10 PM I bet you’re always saving my pictures!_

 _Kei_  
_4:10 PM_  
_Have you ever found your pictures on my phone? 4:10 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:10 PM No, because you transferred them to your laptop  
_

_Kei_  
_4:10 PM_

_Me_  
_ 4:10 PM Of course you won’t tell me the truth_

_Kei_  
_Overly confident 4:10 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:10 PM Pervert_

_Kei_  
_As if 4:10 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:10 PM Pervert~_

_Kei_  
_Why is your head always full of things that don’t exist? 4:11 PM  
_

Several knocks on my door followed by my father saying “let’s go” stops me from thinking of a clever comeback. I love how calm he is compared to my mother whose voice can’t seem to understand that we aren’t living in a forest. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why she always wins nationals. Everyone she coaches will always obey everything she says and that’s not an easy skill to possess. We’re talking about leading adults who have their own fixed mindset, not little kids who’ll follow whatever their big sister does.

_Me_  
_ 4:11 PM My father’s here_  
_ 4:11 PM I’m going now, bye_

_Kei_  
_Take care 4:11 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:11 PM Don’t miss me_

_Kei_  
_You wish 4:11 PM  
_

_Me_   
_ 4:11 PM We can still talk when I’m in the car, just in case?_

_Kei_  
_No, thanks 4:12 PM_

_Me_  
_ 4:12 PM I’m being kind!_

_Kei_  
_You’re going to sleep in your car 4:12 PM  
_

_Me_  
_ 4:12 PM Eh_  
_ 4:12 PM True_

_Kei_  
_Bye 4:12 PM  
_

I sneer, locking my phone and picking the red _kinchaku_ from my bed. After turning off the air conditioner, I pat Yue’s head a couple of times and leave the door of my room open. I should get a new _yukata_ for my next occasion because stepping down the stairs in this one is harder than I thought.

* * *

My father wakes me up by tapping my shoulder several times. I pull back my head that’s resting on the car window and glance at the digital clock in his dashboard. We’ve been riding the car for forty minutes and the dark blue sky surrounding us has turned orange—a view that I’ve lost count for since I’ve been spending many afternoons working in this town. Since Obon isn’t seen as a festive holiday like Christmas, there isn’t anything different in how the streets look. There aren’t luminous decorations in front of people’s houses or pedestrians who wear a specific accessory to show that they’re celebrating something.

I roll the window down when we almost arrive at Semi’s house, putting my head out with a grin on my face. People who I just met a few days ago stand in front of the red gate of a white-painted two-story house. It’s my first time visiting this place, but instead of checking the exterior as much as I can, I’m intrigued by Goshiki who isn’t the only one wearing a yukata. Semi, Kawanishi, and Reon have chosen to do the same, while the rest of the group wear a boring shirt and some dark trousers. Among them, Semi’s the only one carrying a blue bag. It’s not a drawstring one like mine. It’s just a simple bag that people use for their lunchbox or so.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I greet them once my father stops his car behind another car that I assume belongs to Semi’s father.

“Afternoon.” Semi smiles, slightly ducking and propping one hand on the roof of the car. “I think you should switch with Taichi. He’s huge, so he should be in the front.”

“Oh, alright.” I unfasten my seatbelt and leave the car, letting Kawanishi take over my spot. Following Semi’s instruction, I sit in the back with Goshiki, Shirabu, and Semi himself, while Tendou, Reon, and Yamagata stay in the middle. Thanks to my father’s wide SUV, we all can fit without having to lift our legs or position ourselves uncomfortably.

“All good?” my father confirms for one last time. After getting several yeses, he drives off through the same old empty road of this town. This will take another forty minutes. Perhaps fifty if we have to find a space in the parking lot, considering there are hundreds of people coming to the festival.

“What made some of you wear _yukata_?” I initiate a topic, although I’m not sure that these people can’t stay quiet for longer than a minute. Those who sit in the first and second row begin looking at the rearview mirror, trying to get the glimpse of the girl’s currently talking.

“Surprise, Hime-chan. We don’t want to make you and Tsutomu feel alone,” Tendou jokingly answers, rotating his body so he can face me. “Aren’t you glad? This feels even more like a celebration. Once in a while is fine.”

“Hahaha, true. I’m not saying that I’m complaining.”

“Do any of you actually honor your ancestors during Obon?” my father suddenly asks.

“Only me, Eiji-san,” Semi says. “I have an altar in my house and my father would put offerings there. My brothers are visiting today with their wives and kids.”

“Oh, your brothers are married? How old are they?”

“The oldest one is thirty, the second one is twenty-eight. They’ve been married for a few years. Only the first one has a kid. A daughter.”

“So gathering during Obon is a family tradition?”

Semi shakes his head. “No. We’ve started celebrating it when my mother passed away five years ago.”

My father lets out a choke that almost sounds like he’s suppressing a stroke. “Sorry, I didn’t know that! What happened, if I may know?”

“It’s—” Semi holds back his answer before heaving a sigh that’s too faint for my father to hear, but I can perceive clearly. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like talking about it.”

My father grunts as he turns in an intersection we’re passing, probably regretting his decision to bring up a sensitive subject. “It’s alright, Eita… I’m sorry as well…”

Semi gives a soft yet forced laugh as a final reply to my father. Tendou’s quick enough to break the ice by explaining the things he’ll do in the festival. There are some games he wants to win and some snack vendors he hopes will reopen again this year. Most of the others comply with his plan. The silly jokes and unimportant banters that I really love about this group finally come to entertain us, making me feel like I’m watching a comedy show. I don’t mind shutting my mouth and listening to them for hours.

Maybe it’s just me and my inability to stay away from other people’s affairs, but I consider the people who sit around me as friends. That said, I can’t completely ignore Semi who sits on the opposite side of me, between the energetic Goshiki and Shirabu who frowns, as though questioning what he’s done in his previous life until he has to cope with people who are always overenthusiastic over the smallest things.

Carefully, I glance at Semi and quickly look to the other side. I don’t want him to sense my concern because what if it’ll bother him? When I was recovering from my accident, I hated it when people gave me a pitiful look and Semi might feel the same. This must be just an after effect of hearing more about his unfortunate past, but he does look a bit gloomy. A calm expression is still shrouding his lovely face, but there’s something not right about it. I hate seeing him like this, but I can’t blame my father for picking a question that led up to an undesirable one. If he knew, he wouldn’t cross the line of being friendly and intrusive.

I’m then reminded by what Wakatoshi told me back then; that I should never ever ask Semi about what exactly happened to his mother. In all honesty, I don’t think about it too often. Whenever I talk to him, I don’t see myself as someone who’s currently talking to a motherless guy. I don’t even ask Goshiki who probably knew everything because I believe he’s going to give me the same response as Wakatoshi. Right now, I’m not sure if I’m still curious. Something horrifying must’ve happened and it pains Semi to remember it. I don’t want to be the one hurting him.

* * *

It’s almost six when we’re lucky enough to park our car in a limited lot near Matsushima bay, where Miyagi’s biggest and only Obon festival takes place. Maybe there are smaller local festivals in another town, but I’ve never heard of them. For me and the people I know, this is the only destination we go to for this specific celebration.

My father decides to spend time alone in a bar that he can reach by foot as the rest of us walk to the crowded main area. The first thing we see is orange lanterns hung on red ropes above us. The second thing is an information booth with a short-haired lady in golden _yukata_ standing behind the desk. She’s surrounded by a few Caucasian tourists who must be here for the first time, thus need to be guided as much as possible. Last year when I was here, I also saw some tourists seemingly having the best day of the month as they laughed and tried every single booth available. It wasn’t strange, considering this festival was one of the most talked about during summer vacation.

The event itself will start at six with a Taiko drumming performed by kids my age, which I don’t really care about that much. To make it less monotone for those who wait for the fun attractions, a sad folk song is playing in the background, perhaps to also warn people to behave themselves since we’re in the middle of something sacred. It’ll only stop once during the ancestral memorial service, where monks from the nearby Zuigan-ji temple lead prayers to honor the spirits of our ancestors. There’ll also be some dancing near the shrine, but I’ve never bothered to watch it from start until finish and neither have my friends. These two will happen in at least an hour from now.

Tendou—who leads the group—brings us to the most crowded area where vendors open their stands. We find the ever-so well-known Japanese festival food that screams our country more than anything, such as _takoyaki_ , _yakitori_ , _yakisoba_ , _okonomiyaki_ , some variations of candies, and endless drink options from fresh fruit juice to shaved flavorful ice. Dinner time in Japan is usually at six to seven, so this will be our special full course meal. Once again, I’m not from complaining. It’s a guilty pleasure treat, but most of them are healthy fast food and summer only happens once a year.

“Let me put my offerings first,” Semi says before heading back to where we came, not waiting for a single person to tell him a word. Near that area, some monks are sitting under a tent booth. For a cheap amount of money, they’ll write the name of a decedent on a _sotoba_ that can be used to replace the old one in the graveyard before the festival ends tomorrow. Across from them, a massive altar is built to gather people’s offerings.

“Hey.” I nudge Goshiki who walks beside me. “Is it okay if I’m with Semi-san?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Just like I said.” I glare at the taller person. “If I’m with Semi-san.”

“Huh?” Goshiki looks at me like I just told him that I’m pregnant and don’t know who the father is. “What do you mean you want to be with Semi-san? What about Ushijima-san—”

“That’s not what I meant!” I slap Goshiki’s arm. “I want to accompany Semi because—tsk, never mind. By the time we’re done talking, he’ll be back here.”

Kawanishi who’s been listening to the entire conversation chortles at my complaint. “Why do you need to ask? Just go.”

“Yeah, just go, Hime-chan,” Tendou adds. “Eita-kun won’t mind if it’s you.”

I raise my eyebrows. I’d love to ask more about the meaning behind Tendou’s statement, but I choose to run after Semi, or more like struggle-to-walk-fast-with-this- _geta_ -on towards him. Next time, I’ll consider wearing sneakers. The distance between us is only less than ten meters, but it’s enough for me to hopefully get what Tendou meant. _Eita-kun won’t mind if it’s you._ He won’t mind if it’s me who’s learning more about his mother. We haven’t been friends for that long. We rarely meet. We’ve only had a private phone call for one time. It doesn’t matter because all that’s true is that I really care about him.

“Semi-san.” I grab the cloth covering Semi’s left hand, stopping him as he turns around and sees me. “Is it okay if we walk together?”

“Walk together?” Semi gives me the same look as Goshiki’s, which means that after all, the problem lies within my phrasing.

“I literally mean what I said!” I shout out of embarrassment. “I want to walk together with you. Don’t put your offerings alone. I want to see you put your offer—seriously! Everything I say sounds weird now!”

It’s a challenge for Semi not to laugh as hard as he can, shown by how the corners of his mouth quiver quite a bit. “Uh, um. It’s okay, I get what you mean. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure? It’s not weird?” I ask because I don’t want him to say yes by force when all he wants is to be alone.

“Why would it be weird?”

“Then stop laughing!”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Fine!” I groan as I stride forward, leaving Semi who in no time walks right next to me.

Before we get to say something to each other, we already reach the busy altar that’s permeated by the thick scent of incense. All kinds of edible offerings are put sporadically on four sides of the square block that can hold quite a lot of objects. There are popular brands like Kit Kat and Sprite to homemade stuff like shrimp tempura and chocolate milkshake. Around us, more than ten people from different ages close their eyes while pressing their hands together, praying to the beloved spirits that will be sent back to their world once the lanterns float on the bay. The atmosphere is very ethereal that I need to show some good manners or else I’ll be haunted.

Once he finds an empty spot, Semi takes out the items out of his bag; two big _onigiri_ wrapped in plastic, two bottles of tea from the same brand but of different flavors, a pack of a three-colored _dango_ , and a pack of red grapes. These must be what his mother liked, but I never imagined her as a big eater. I watch him arrange everything neatly in silence—I suppose he wants to display it well and to leave the people after us enough space for their own offerings. The second thought must be true, since he’s very considering of the others.

I’m not used to this custom because my family isn’t doing one, but I’ve seen people loudly chanting words ordinary people don’t understand after giving their offerings. What Semi does is very simple and seems to be what’s common to younger people nowadays; he claps his hands and start praying. I can’t help but do the same. I don’t know anything about his mother nor have I ever seen her picture, but I thank her for being a great person when she was alive and for protecting her family in this world up until today.

When I open my eyes, Semi isn’t done with his prayer. I feel bad for not speaking longer and I consider of doing it again, but I guess it’s no use. Semi has a lot to say to her, while I don’t. Sometimes people pray not to only ask for something or express their gratitude, but also to simply talk, to let out the problems they have inside their mind. I patiently wait for him to finish, which takes no more than another minute. He smiles at me before leaving the altar as I walk closely beside him. Even from here, we can see our friends lining in front of several stands, dividing duties to buy the food.

“Did Wakatoshi tell you something about my mother?”

Semi’s unexpected question almost gives me a heart attack, but I manage to compose myself by keep moving my feet and looking straight forward. “Uh, yes, but nothing weird. When he was at my house, I asked him about your mother because I never saw her. He said that she passed away when you’re in middle school.”

“You didn’t ask why?”

“No. I didn’t,” I blurt out a lie. I feel defensive towards Semi’s boldness, but the bigger reason is that I don’t want to speak too much and perhaps anger someone. Wakatoshi didn’t give me any further information about Semi’s mother, but he did warn me to not ask Semi more than this. If I were to tell Semi the truth, I’m afraid he’ll confront Wakatoshi one day—in all fairness, Wakatoshi could’ve just told me that he didn’t want to be the one revealing everything or that he didn’t know anything.

There’s a tiny part of me that hopes that Semi will ask if I want to know and I’ll say yes. The situation seems to fit, with all of our previous conversations that lead up to this and how we’re walking under the bright lanterns of an Obon festival. But it doesn’t happen. His lips are shut as we pass through the sea of people that keep increasing with each passing second, coming from every corner of the prefecture. Once or twice, I glance at him, as if I own the ability to read his mind or to decode the emotions written on his face.

Maybe he needs more time. Maybe he doesn’t trust me at all. I understand either way because I can’t compare someone who’s gotten to know him through text messages for two months to those who’ve been there for him through thick and thin since years ago. I understand if he can’t see me the same way I see him.

* * *

A few more things I learn about the seven boys walking with me; one, Reon who looks like he can conquer any war ironically can’t stand even a little hint of spiciness. Two, Shirabu loves to add a lot of mayonnaise to his _takoyaki_. Three, Kawanishi prefers curly fries because according to him, they have a stronger taste and better texture. Four, Yamagata drinks vegetable juice and once thought of being a vegetarian—he tried it for less than a week before failing. Five, Tendou has an unusually strong bladder. Six, Goshiki doesn’t hate squid’s texture as much as before. Seven, Semi loves to bite on his straw like I do.

Another thing that I learn about myself is that I can’t stop laughing because of them. There’s always a way for them to tickle me with their humor. Someone as quiet as Shirabu can be funny with the way he’s bothered by how the others act very similar to an untamed troop of monkeys, while someone exuberant like Tendou can make my stomach hurt from the smallest joke. Maybe it’s just me who’s easily amused like a baby, but maybe it’s because they were born with the talent to become a comedian.

“Aren’t you going to play any games and stop snacking, Hime-chan?” Tendou teases me, a person who can’t stop eating their food—or what I call “tasting”. I’m not even embarrassed by trying to do it only when they can’t see.

“What? Like yo-yo scooping?” Kawanishi asks while slurping a cup of banana smoothie. ”We’re ten years too old for doing that.”

I smile when Tendou gets insulted by Kawanishi’s words and they get into another useless banter. I look around the place that’s gained hundreds of newcomers than there was when we just arrived thirty minutes ago. The only games that look the least childish when played by big kids like us will be gun-shooting and ring-tossing, but the pretty dolls or pencil cases we’re going to win aren’t really worth the money we spend for the trials and errors. It’ll excite people more if they have a useful gift that resembles a door prize, like a TV or refrigerator.

“Hey.”

I snap my head to the right when Reon grasps my shoulder. He thrusts his phone right in front of my face and a serious look on his own. For a second, my heart stops. I thought someone had murdered my father who’s alone out there, but then I got logical. Reon wouldn’t act this calmly if that were the case.

“Wakatoshi is calling,” Reon continues, alerting the others as they direct their eyes towards me. I’m used to this kind of treatment whenever they see me interacting with Wakatoshi. I don’t need to prepare myself for being poked fun at as I’ve become someone who’s always ready for it.

I grab Reon’s phone and hold it tight against my ear. “Wakatoshi? Hi, good evening from here. How are you?”

“Hello, I’m good,” Wakatoshi greets me back and I won’t deny that I miss his voice so much. “How’s the festival so far?”

“It’s really fun. Are you having your break now?” I ask while trying to ignore Tendou who starts giggling and creating silly expressions that only he can do. It’s not that he gets on my nerves—it’s about me not wanting to laugh out of the blue and confuse Wakatoshi.

“No. I’m still in the middle of training, but I left to call you. I have to be back in a minute.”

“Huh? Did you by any chance call my phone?”

“I did, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Oh, no! I’m sorry, it’s been in my bag all this time!”

“It’s okay. Tendou and Semi also didn’t pick up. If I knew I could leave for a moment, I would’ve told you,” Wakatoshi blames himself because he has a high level of kindness like none other. “It must’ve been nice there. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I’ll send you a lot of pictures—of the food, scenery, and everything else. I’ll wake up early again so we can have a video call. Okay?” I promise him, perhaps a bit too desperate, but I don’t care. If he could, he would be here with us. We can always do it again next year, but I know he wants to be a part of what’s happening now.

“Okay,” he replies, sighing afterwards. “I need to go back now.”

“Ah, okay… See you later. Do your best.”

“I will, thank you. See you later.”

I guess I’m not doing a good job in hiding my sadness when Wakatoshi leaves because everyone gives me pitiful look. Tendou pats my head, telling me that everything’s going to be alright. Goshiki rubs my back, saying that they’re going to distract me from this loneliness. Reon convinces me that Wakatoshi will come back home soon and I have nothing to worry about. Shirabu nods his head too many times, silently agreeing to what his friends say. Kawanishi gets his phone from his bag and takes some pictures of me without a prior warning. Semi and Yamagata are the only normal ones as they only laugh.

These guys are insane, but from the bottom of my heart, I truly like them.

* * *

“Semi-san, aren’t you going to get your lanterns?” When it’s a few minutes after eight, Shirabu reminds Semi of the thing that I don’t think he’s forgotten. We’ve been having fun with visiting almost every booth in this festival, but there’s no way we’re going to miss the main event—the reason why this even takes place.

“You’re right,” Semi replies, looking at me. “You want to come?”

“Oh? Sure,” I say, happily. I’m glad that he asks me instead of me begging to come with him.

“I’ll be back,” Semi tells the others before walking away and I follow him right after.

We go through the same path we took for the offerings as the free white paper lanterns are prepared in a booth near it. I’ve never been this close to requesting one, but I’ve seen the process; we take one, write the name and message for their ancestor, and put it on another table. Later when the festival’s almost over, some volunteers will take the lanterns to the hug boat that’s parked at the dock and scatter them onto the bay. I’ve always stayed until the end, watching them burn and illuminate the water.

“Hi, you can take the lanterns and markers there.” The young guy sitting behind the desk points towards the long table of plain rectangle white lanterns with brown edges. On one side, there’s a box with black makers. There were also some people scribbling while standing around the table, but it’s not as busy as the altar before.

I glance away when Semi takes a lantern and a pen and begins writing. He might only leave a short heartfelt sentence like “I miss you, Kaa-san”, but I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to have a peek on it. It’s similar to reading through someone’s phone or personal letters. All I do is wait for a few seconds until he’s done. Looking at his face and sometimes shoulders, I’m still trying my best to not get any glimpse of the message he’s written.

“Are you done—” I’m halted from finishing my words when Semi grabs another lantern. He smiles at me, while I can only wonder about the other person that he’s lost.

It must be one of his grandparents. Many of my friends were born without four complete grandparents, so it shouldn’t be too surprising. Right now, I’m considering of getting one lantern for myself, dedicated for everyone who had a role on creating my existence. It could be hundreds to thousands of generations, but without them, none of us would be here.

“Do you want to know?” Semi asks while still writing.

I gasp. “What?”

“Don’t you want to know about what I’ve written?” he bluntly explains, as always. “I thought you might be confused as to why I get two lanterns instead of just one.”

“Uh, yes, sure, I mean—your grandparents…?” I stumble quite a lot in telling what I think of. “…or not? Sorry, I don’t think it’s my place to know…”

“Hahaha, here.” Semi casually hands me his lantern and I’m left with no option but to read the black words, looking extremely beautiful as I see his handwriting for the first time. On one side, it has “Semi Hiyori”, which must be his mother’s name. On the other side, there’s a longer message.

 _Kaa-san, we’re doing very well with our lives_  
_You don’t have anything to worry about_  
_I know I don’t need to tell you anything_  
_Because you’ll always watch us from above_  
_We love you_  
_Thank you for everything_

Perhaps it’s because I’ve expected what I’d read that I don’t immediately burst into tears. While still feeling blue, I give the lantern to Semi as he puts it back on the table. Much to my surprise, he takes his previous one and hands it to me. I do feel curious about it. I’m not saying that his mother is less important, but he wrote for that person first. He doesn’t have to do it in order, but if I were him, I’d prioritize the one I love the most.

_To my sister, the person I deeply love yet have never met before_

My heart drops.

 _One day, I’m going to walk by your side_  
_I’ll teach you the things we couldn’t experience together_  
_Sorry for always giving you the same messages every year_  
_But none of your brothers nor father will ever forget you_

 _To my sister._ To his sister.

I’m frozen in place as Semi takes the lantern from my hands. I don’t even dare to look into his eyes like before because I don’t know how to react to the fact that his sister died, just like his mother. I never knew this. I didn’t expect this, that’s why my body is painfully tangled and my limbs weaken. When we walk back and join the others, I feel like a snail crawling to match his pace. How I’m able to move from this location to the next one should be regarded as magic.

* * *

I’m thankful to everyone who’s able to distract me—not from Wakatoshi who isn’t here, but from my head which keeps running back to Semi. I spend the last fifteen minutes listening to some debates that start with Yamagata’s hobby to consume dragon fruits during summer since it’s the time they’re harvested and end up with how they’re going to bake a cow-shaped cake for Wakatoshi when he’s back. The last one ends up with Shirabu telling them that just because they want to cook doesn’t mean that they should and if they force themselves to make one, it’ll end up with a huge mess and thirty minutes of lecture from Semi.

When people mount the lanterns onto the beat and the slower folk songs are played, the festival becomes quieter. With the others, I prefer to wait near the tall stage where the dance was performed earlier. We aren’t standing as close to each other as before—some are in a group of two, some have gone to the restroom, and some are enjoying the panorama from far. I prefer to rest my back against the wooden wall of the stage, enjoying the warmth of the lanterns, but also the wind from the sea. It’s hard to describe, but it could be named a sedative.

“What do you look so gloomy?” Goshiki comes back from buying a bottle of water and stands beside me. “You’re good? Don’t forget to blink. I heard you can get possessed if you don’t.”

“Hmm? I’m just sleepy…” I sluggishly reply. “Or maybe I’m already possessed? What will you do now?”

“Don’t say creepy things like that! I just thought something happened between you and Semi-san!” Goshiki opens the lid of his bottle and gulps down a few times with an “ah” afterwards. He does this a lot and I bet there’s no other meaning beside him attempting to look like the model in most of the cold beverage commercials.

“I actually…” I straighten my back, but watching the ground. “I feel a bit awful. I found out about Semi-san’s family and I know you wouldn’t want to tell me, but I still want to ask. Do you by chance know what happened to his mother?”

Goshiki shrugs, but looking so rigid when doing it. “Go ask him yourself.”

“Geez, you guys are best friends, huh? But then you told them many things about me? This is unfair, Shiki-chan,” I grumble. “But well, I guess I understand why.”

“To be fair, I told Ushiijma-san about what happened at the hospital because he kept bugging me about it, but also because I knew.”

I frown. “Knew what?”

“That he couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Goshiki says. “Asking about a girl he’d never talked to before didn’t seem to fit his image, but he did it because it was you. He’s always been your number one fan.”

I’m never a fan of constantly hearing Wakatoshi or anyone else’s name, but I’ve lost count on how many times he’s made me smile, directly and indirectly. I can’t say this because I don’t want to be teased again, but I wish he’d be here. He’s very adorable. I can drag him everywhere and he’s going to follow me without complaining, like a big cat or some sort. He listens when I speak and he speaks only when necessary. He’s not selfish at all. Maybe I really do miss him.

“Do you want to go with me to the shore?” Semi walks over, startling me and Goshiki.

“Eh? Us?” Goshiki asks.

“Whoever wants to go with me.”

Goshiki glances at me. “You go. I’ll be here.”

“Sure,” I say, getting the hint that this is the perfect time for me to finally accomplish what I hope is my last mission of the day.

Semi brings me to a spot where I can watch the boat sail, carrying hundreds of lanterns that people have written on. I was standing here last year with Goshiki and our other friends, but my heart was lighter. The air is always mournful, but I feel more melancholic now. It’s not even a minute when I see the rest of the gang follow us to the shore, but they’re gathering far from here, as if they understand that Semi only chose me to be with him and not them.

“Semi-san,” I begin. “Am I not bothering you? Please don’t ask me to come with you just because you feel bad.”

Semi’s eyes are still fixated on the calm sea as he exhales a long breath and speaks, “In September before I turned fourteen, my mother was killed in a hit-and-run accident while crossing the street. She was six months pregnant with my sister. They both died in the ambulance.”

My entire body staggers. If I look like I’m about to cry, it’s because I’m really about to cry. Now I know why he offered two _onigiri_ and two bottles of tea. His mother didn’t have a huge appetite. It was each for her and his younger sister.

I can’t remember the last time my heart has hurt this much because of someone else. It’s not that I can’t remember, it’s just that it’s never happened before. I’ve never been this close to someone who’s lost their pregnant mother. I’ve only known those who lost their family because of sickness or another common cause. At least, they were prepared. They had the chance to say their goodbye and to appreciate their last days together. For Semi, it all happened in an instant. He wasn’t ready for it.

And it’s impossible for me not to notice the similarity between us; autumn, car accident, and crossing the street. I’m the lucky one for surviving. I wasn’t supposed to be here—everyone said that there was a small chance I could make it out alive. I’m healthy now. It’s thanks to the doctors and people who supported me, but also because the world gave me another chance. This story is like a bigger slap on my face, for all the times I was angry for not being able to play volleyball anymore. There’s always something that I have and other people don’t.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter in a hushed tone. “I’m really sorry, Semi-san.”

“Why? It’s all good.” Semi chuckles. “But let me say that I’m really glad you’re alive. If not, we would—wait, why are you crying?”

I hide my face by lowering my head and covering it with the long fabric hanging on my hand. This is embarrassing. I should’ve been stronger than this. I don’t cry when I hit my leg against the desk. I laugh when I get paper cut or slice my finger from chopping too fast. I’m not like other girls who sob the minute they watch an abandoned cat video.

“Please don’t cry. Wakatoshi’s going to smack me if he knows,” Semi jokes as he pulls my arm, but I use my other one to take over the job in blocking the view. “Hahaha. Come on, look at the lanterns. They’re floating now.”

“Promise not to tell anyone this.” My voice is muffled.

“Of course, I won’t.”

I wipe my eyes fast before dragging down my arm. Semi doesn’t lie. Through a blurry vision I see more than ten lanterns float away from us, following the streamline that’ll guide them from the bay to sea. This is a parting symbol with our ancestors until we meet next time. The Obon season will end. Tomorrow, we’re going back to our boring daily life. I don’t mind, because I’ve seen one of most beautiful things this summer with the people who I care for. I’m glad to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’VE WRITTEN 1K WORDS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, SO IT SHOULD BE UPDATED SOON! IT’S GOING TO BE WRITTEN FROM USHIJIMA’S POV, LIKE WHAT I DID WITH KEI.
> 
> THIS (PROBABLY) ISN’T A LIE BECAUSE I SAID THE SAME THING ABOUT MY BNHA FIC AND IT DID GET UPDATED AFTER AROUND 1 WEEK. YAY. YAY.
> 
> I’m sorry for being a slowpoke… ;_;


	51. Chérie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [It might be a good idea to listen to this.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrWxK2TsTw0)
> 
> [This version tears me up.](https://www.bilibili.com/video/av23889967/)
> 
> [This calms me down.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-XRDlV08Uw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who’s keeping her promise to update fast? Me! :3
> 
> **READ THIS FIRST PLEASE!**
> 
>   1. In one of the early chapters, heroine’s mom offered the whole Shiratorizawa team to go to her university. That was me being lazy and not researching more. :’) I did my homework and found that 80-90% of Japanese professional volleyball players immediately join professional clubs after they finish high school. People like Waka, Kage, Goshi, Boku, heroine’s parents, Waka’s dad, etc. are so into volleyball that it’s impossible if they choose to study something else behind the desk (even if it’s100% free) when they can get paid by playing professionally. It’s like someone asking me if I want to study whatever major or get my novel published. I’ve made some big changes, especially about Waka’s ending. I need to edit the old chapters, but probably most of you have already forgotten about them. ;_;
>   2. Remember when I made polls and I asked if you want a prequel about Waka prior to this story? Yeah, I realized a few months ago that there’s not enough material for it. Waka and the heroine didn’t know each other back then, so there’s no point in making a new fic about it because there’s not a lot to tell. THIS CHAPTER IS WHAT I CAN GIVE YOU AS IT CONTAINS FLASHBACKS. I hope I write it good enough. ;_;
>   3. The title is "Chérie", which is a French word for sweetheart, darling, beloved, dear, dearest, etc. and is used to refer to women.
> 

> 
> I had to proofread this chapter myself, so you might find some typos. I’d also love to thank Rever, Zero, or M-san (?) for helping me with Waka’s characterization. She’s so honest in answering my questions, even when I mess around with her a lot AHAHAHAHA
> 
> Happy reading~

* * *

The end of Japan’s male volleyball team in the FIVB U19 was marked by the whistle blown by the first referee. Over the past four days, they’d fought bravely against four other countries in Pool B to secure a place in the top sixteen; Argentina, Chile, Cuba, and Turkey.

On August 15, they lost all three sets to Chile with the score of 21-25, 21-25, and 22-25. On August 17, they lost to Argentina with the score of 21-25, 17-25, and 19-25. Today, on August 18, they lost once again to Cuba with the score of 19-25, 23-25, and 20-25. The only time they won was on August 16, when they had to go through five sets against Turkey and won by a very small margin of 26-24, 26-24, 17-25, 24-26, and 17-19. One win and three loses weren’t enough to keep them in the competition, ranking them as the last team among the five.

In the middle of the court, Wakatoshi tried catching his breath after wearying himself out from playing nonstop for more than an hour. Something had been boiling in his chest since day one, but he didn’t quite know the word to describe it. He thought about everything he’d done so far and how none of them could fulfil his hunger. He was the best player in Tohoku. He’d worked so hard since he was young to achieve the title of the top Japanese volleyball ace. He always gave his best, yet everything always ended up with him losing to a team more powerful than his.

As he wiped the sweat forming on his forehead, he watched his libero continuously apologizing for losing the last point. Everybody knew it wasn’t his fault because they were still six points away from winning. When he turned to the opposite direction, he saw the bleachers with some avid fans who had spent a lot of money and energy to fly all the way to this continent. Instead of being sulky, they cheered louder with the flag of Japan and red thunder sticks in their hands. They shouted words of encouragements, reminding everyone of the optimism and good manner Japanese people were notable for.

Things went on as usual; they shook hands with their opponent, they went to the sideline to bow and thank their supporters, and they headed back to their coaches and managers. Representing a country and being watched by millions surely weighed more than a local competition, but they didn’t look too devastated. At least one person should’ve cried out of embarrassment and disappointment, but no one did. Perhaps they suppressed their tears because they were aged between seventeen to nineteen, which made them more mature than early teens. Perhaps they thought that crying in front of an international media would be foolish. Perhaps they also knew that they were doomed to face defeat from the past results.

“Now you know that being strong in your hometown doesn’t mean that you’re one of the best in the world. There are better players out there. As soon as you get back home, practice harder. You’re chosen from several thousand people for a reason. There’s always next time, but show us that we didn’t make a mistake,” the lead coach pulled everyone’s morale without sugarcoating their incompetence.

His words were true. To those who were seventeen and eighteen, there was a very high chance of them getting picked again to compete next year. To those who were nineteen, there would be U21, U23, and other world championships like the Olympics and Asian Games. Most of them would be joining a professional club by then. They’d have a lot of time to gain as much experience as possible before retiring. This wasn’t the end of everything.

* * *

The first thing Wakatoshi sought for once he got back to the changing room was the phone he put inside of his locker. Some of his teammates right away went to the bathroom, some began reflecting on what they’d done wrong, but he quietly sat on the bench with his nose stuck on the brightened screen.

Two months ago, he barely remembered that he owned a life outside of his favorite sport. If his friends didn’t remind him to check on his phone, he wouldn’t do it until he crawled in the bed late at night—if he wasn’t too sleepy to do it. The reason he woke up was to relive yesterday and pursue the same old dream. He wouldn’t waste his resting time to be in a video call with someone for hours when he could nap or watch educational videos.

Everything changed when he started expecting a girl with a name that was known by many people, but meant a lot more to him.

Just like now, his heart was warmed up with the things that he’d heard a million times before. _You did a great job, Wakatoshi. I’m proud of you. You were so cool. I’m sure you’ll win next time._ He wasn’t new to praises and adoration. He understood what he was capable of, but when it came from her, he felt invincible. She made him believe that no one ever lied whenever they called him a treasure. The voices around that could make him doubt himself were muffled, then disappeared. Nothing else mattered. Not even divinity could shatter him down.

“Great news!” When Wakatoshi was about to type back a response, the door was opened brutally, startling almost everyone in the room. There stood one of the Japan support staff. His breathing was more irregular than anyone here, as if he was the spiker who’d scored more than forty points during the previous match.

“What do you mean?” one guy asked, looking unamused. After the downfall, nobody could be too sure that they would receive something considered as “great news”.

“You’ll be facing Algeria, Rwanda, and Tunisia to determine the last four places!” the staff announced with a huge smile. “Don’t you think that’s great? You’re definitely going to win the seventeenth place!”

Maybe his real intention to speak condescendingly and sarcastically was to get yelled at by kids half his age because that was exactly what he got. He left the room while laughing, leaving everyone bitter by his rudeness. What was the point of being in the seventeenth place out of twenty countries? It would’ve been better if they’d gotten into the top twelve. At least, it’d be considered as passable.

One guy proceeded to say that he’d never heard about the three countries mentioned, to which almost everyone agreed with. From the name, they must be somewhere in Africa. Another guy then added about how embarrassing it was for a first world country that everyone adored like Japan to be grouped with three unknown—and perhaps also poor—countries. He made a mistake because this time, everyone disagreed. People’s talents had nothing to do with where or how they were raised. They just lost to Cuba, a country with a poverty level way higher than Japan.

Wakatoshi didn’t feel like listening to them switching their subject from FIVB to the economies of Latin America. He wasn’t ignorant about what was happening outside of his stable life, but he had plenty of time to study it later.

He went back to his phone, where he saw another message from the same person he’d been waiting for. His heart leapt, but not for the very first. In fact, he’d lost count for every time a simple word from her alleviated his burden like it didn’t even exist.

 _L/N F/N_  
_ 8:51 PM Wakatoshi, if you’re there, you better reply!_  
_8:51 PM_

_ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_Sorry someone just came 8:51 PM_  
_Thank you for what you wrote above. I’ll try harder next time 8:51 PM_

 _ L/N F/N_  
_ 8:52 PM Where are you now?_

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_The changing room 8:52 PM_

 _ L/N F/N_  
_ 8:52 PM How are you feeling?_

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_A bit exhausted 8:52 PM_  
_It’s almost 9 here. I should have dinner soon 8:52 PM_

 _ L/N F/N_  
_ 8:52 PM Are you sure?_  
_ 8:52 PM You don’t have to keep it to yourself if you don’t feel that well_

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_I’m disappointed at the result, but I can’t change it 8:52 PM_

 _L/N F/N_  
_8:52 PM_   
_8:53 PM Okay_  
_ 8:53 PM Understandable_  
_ 8:53 PM But_

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_I’ll do better 8:53 PM_

 _ L/N F/N_  
_ 8:53 PM I know you will!_  
_ 8:53 PM I don’t want to keep saying that there’s always next time_  
_ 8:53 PM I hated it when they said that to me_  
_ 8:53 PM But if you’re feeling well, then all right_  
_ 8:53 PM I’ll shut up_

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_You said you’re proud of me 8:54 PM_

 _L/N F/N_  
_ 8:54 PM Of course I am!_  
_ 8:54 PM 10001% proud_  
_ 8:54 PM Super proud_  
_ 8:54 PM Infinitely proud_  
_8:54 PM_

If there were ninety-nine times when she recolored his days with the sound of her giggle, there were one hundred times he almost wrote her a phrase that meant so much more than a “thank you”. The only thing that kept him still was the consequences that came with it. When they met after a while, when they had a video call for the thirtieth time, when she sent him off at the airport—every time he almost did it, the dialogues that happened a few weeks ago always rose back to mind.

_Don’t do it, Ushijima-san._

_Not yet._

_The last time it happened, she couldn’t face that person normally anymore._

_If the outcome isn’t like what you want, your relationship will change for the worse._

_You don’t want things to be awkward, do you?_

He never fully understood the idea of keeping it a secret. All the movies he watched and songs he heard advised him to not wait for even a millisecond. She could be here now, but what about next week? She almost died once. He hated what he was doing, but he chose to believe in the person who knew her better than him. He didn’t have any other choice but to find another way to express himself and to repress this overwhelming heat in his chest. Anything should be fine as long as it wasn’t going to that direction.

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_I wish I could meet you right now 8:55 PM  
_

Her next response took a few seconds longer.

 _ L/N F/N_  
_ 8:55 PM I feel the same way_

 _ Ushijima Wakatoshi _  
_Really? 8:56 PM_

 _L/N F/N_  
_ 8:56 PM Obon is boring without you_  
_8:56 PM_  
_8:56 PM Yes, really!_  
_ 8:56 PM Let’s hang out a lot when you’re back_  
_ 8:56 PM It’s a promise~_  
_8:56 PM So please don’t be sad and look forward to coming home, okay?_  
_ 8:56 PM We’ll have a lot of fun_

Wakatoshi needed some time to regulate his thoughts. Just for a little bit longer, he would hold himself back.

* * *

After the team arrived back at the hotel, they were told to have a quick bathe and wear their nicest clothes—something with collar was preferable. Wakatoshi chose the blue shirt that he hadn’t worn in months, while a few of his teammates picked different variations of polo shirts. They were brought to the sapphire-painted Le Vent d'Armor, one of the best affordable French restaurants in Paris. This was already scheduled as one of the places they were going to dine at, not as a pitiful rebound after being beaten up in the competition.

From the moment they were in the car until they were seated in a group of eight and waited for their food to be served, Wakatoshi couldn’t drop his phone from his hand. He’d answer when asked, but most of the time, his eyes were glued down. He wasn’t the only one doing it, considering they were all kids living in a digital era. Some of his teammates and staff members including the coaches did discuss about the future of Japanese volleyball. He heard them quite a bit because he was busy reading what his friends wrote on the ever so loud group chat.

“What about you, Wakatoshi?”

Wakatoshi raised his head, staring at the coach who sat in front of him and appeared to be in his fifties as he had a few grey spot in his hair. “Yes?”

“You’ve changed a lot. You weren’t on your phone this much when I saw you last year. Are things going too well with your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Coach Sakurai,” Wakatoshi corrected the coach’s assumption.

“Lies!” the spiky guy who sat beside Sakurai shouted. “He’s dating L/N F/N! We all know that!”

Sakurai laughed. “Who doesn’t know that? It was all over the news. It’s not surprising if you two end up together, since you’re also from the same prefecture.”

Wakatoshi gave a slight puzzled look. “We aren’t dating.”

“All right, fine. If you say so.” Sakurai playfully shrugged, still tittering. “So, where are you going after high school? You’ll graduate in half a year.”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Why? I heard you got an offer from all six V. League clubs. You can talk to us if you need any advice. For example, I was the captain of Blazers Sakai for more than ten years. Your captain now is a regular for Toray Arrow.” With his thumb, Sakurai pointed at the tanned guy who sat at the corner of their table. “I suggest you think about the city as well. Most of them are based in a colder place than Sendai, unless if you want to try your luck abroad?”

“I’ve looked at the offers and compared them, but I haven’t decided.”

“Because of the salary?”

“No. The distance,” Wakatoshi said, putting an end to the discussion.

He’d been asked the same question over and over again. The clock was ticking. It was already August. February next year, he’d face the final exam that he didn’t need to worry about because he did brilliant academically and he wasn’t applying to the top universities in Japan. A month later, he’d have his graduation ceremony. He wouldn’t die if he spent three months doing nothing afterwards, but opportunities wouldn’t wait for an irresolute mind.

He couldn’t forget his father’s words when he was a kid; that he had to join a strong team if he wanted to be strong as well.

But that wasn’t always the case.

Unlike his father’s era, the new Shiratorizawa male’s volleyball team wasn’t the best in Japan. He could’ve gone to someplace better like Itachiyama in Tokyo, but he stayed. His father who wasn’t physically around told him to not live alone in another prefecture when he was still too young. He didn’t object because he couldn’t lie to himself—he wanted to be close to home and he didn’t want to leave the comfort his friends had given him for years. He wanted to be the strongest, but he wasn’t blinded by power.

He understood that the case was different now. Some of his friends would attend post-secondary institutions from all over the country, some would work in different cities, some would start their own business, and some will perhaps get married immediately.

There wasn’t any professional club in Sendai. If he wanted to improve, he had to get out, but he couldn’t bear the thought of rarely going back home for only once in a while. He didn’t mind going by the airplane or riding a train for hours. Money wouldn’t be a problem since he earned quite a lot from the club and many international tournaments. The only thing he didn’t want was to spend less time with the people that meant the world to him.

“Wakatoshi.” Sakurai leaned forward, whispering as to not be heard by anyone. “Is there something holding you back from moving away from Sendai?”

“Something that’s holding me back?” Wakatoshi asked.

“Yes.” Sakurai’s voice turned softer. “You don’t have to answer, but think about it yourself… If you do move to say, Osaka, what’s the first thing that you’ll miss? That must be the one holding you back.”

The first thing that came to Wakatoshi’s mind was a name.

Without a doubt, something that he’d miss the most was someone who he wished could stand by his side all the time. He still couldn’t fully accept the fact that they went to different schools. It pained him that they had to travel for forty-five minutes to meet each other and they could only do it once in a while. Imagine how worse it would be once he relocated to a place six times farther. What would keep him at night would be a name that everybody knew, but he fell in love with.

* * *

In the spring of 2009, Sendai City Gymnasium was once again chosen as the venue for the Newcomer Volleyball Tournament, one of Japan’s biggest competitions for middle school level. The clear blue sky and cherry blossoms blooming on the street should’ve been a major thing that everybody talked about, but their interest was won over by a first-year female spiker from Kazegari Middle School. She was twelve. She was also the only daughter of two renowned volleyball coaches who used to be athletes themselves.

On the second day of the tournament, Shiratorizawa Academy Junior High was one of the teams who had to wait for at least an hour before their semifinal match started. Because they were in the final last year, they were exempt from all the matches on day one. Eita decided that they should check on the girl people couldn’t stop mentioning, so they went to one of the arenas and sat on the bleacher between many spectators who most likely were also there for her.

That was the moment Wakatoshi saw her for the first time.

Before someone specifically told him which one was her, he already knew because he could always tell an excellent player from an average one. She wore the maroon jersey number eight. She wasn’t as tall as he thought, but she couldn’t be categorized as short either. She was the only person in her team who cut her hair very short, which made her look the most prepared in conquering the court. The deafening sound of her slamming the ball through the blockers was mesmerizing. She was also very dynamic and flexible as she could kneel on one place and jump to the opposite corner within seconds. Not to mention her spiking form that only proved how developed her body was.

Wakatoshi was in awe. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He still wouldn’t do it if he could. He didn’t want to miss even a second of her showcasing the reason why she deserved to be the talk of the town. She was a wonder.

“F/N…” Wakatoshi mumbled out. “That’s her name.”

“Eh?” Reon, who was next to him, reacted. “Yes, I know that’s her name. Everybody is screaming it.”

Wakatoshi heard it too. His intention to pronounce her name wasn’t to remind Reon or anyone, but to memorize it for himself. The chance of him forgetting her was very small—her career would soar and keep her around for a very long time—but he couldn’t stop himself from inwardly repeating it again and again.

It was a beautiful name, just like her laughter whenever she racked another point or when she sportively gave a high five to each one of her teammates. It was uncanny to think that she was removed from elementary school just three months ago. If they hadn’t revealed her age, he would’ve thought that she was at least fifteen—not because she looked old, but because no twelve-year-old should play that good.

With her scoring more than half of the fifty points, Kazegari easily won the match. Wakatoshi rarely finished watching a female match as he never cared about studying a team he wouldn’t face, but she was an exception. They left the gym at the same time and he saw her being surrounded by reporters. She looked tinier closer by, but also prettier. Her voice was a bit squeaky like a voice actress some of his classmates often talked about. She was asked a lot about her background; how she could be that good and the relationships between her parents. She looked very content towards the appreciation as she couldn’t stop thanking everyone and giving credits to the team who had supported her.

“Wakatoshi, you’re staring,” Reon teased. “What’s the matter? Did she take your breath away?”

“Taking my breath away?” Wakatoshi asked back.

“I mean, you seem to be enchanted by her.”

“I am,” Wakatoshi didn’t even think of hiding his feelings.

Reon looked surprised, but then he grinned. “That’s new, but I understand why. You should say hi, or is it better if you do it after our next match? It’s too crowded there. It’ll be weird if you suddenly come by.”

“I agree.”

And that was also the first time Wakatoshi ever thought about a female player during his own game. He didn’t lose his focus, but he wanted it to be done fast so he could finally introduce himself to her. It was a strange  kind of anticipation that he’d never felt before, but he didn’t hate it at all.

Less than ten minutes into the game, the girls and boys from Kazegari Middle came to the bleachers with their white jacket on. She was there, leaning against the balcony with a black-haired guy that had a face of an eight-year-old because of how young he looked. They talked while laughing and sometimes she hit his back or arm when their jokes became too much.

Their eyes weren’t fixated on one team and that relieved Wakatoshi. At least, she watched him now and then. He wore a number one and bore a captain title of the number one team in Miyagi. She must’ve acknowledged him like what he did to her.

When the game ended, she was already gone with a few of her friends including the boy from before, while the others stayed behind. As soon as Shiratorizawa’s team got to the waiting area to rest before they went into their bus, Wakatoshi announced that he had to go somewhere, just in case they would be looking for him. No one felt the need to ask more as he wasn’t the only one leaving during a time like this. Most of them would buy something to fill their stomach, but he had a different task; he had to find that girl.

He was on the second floor, where the massive gym that could simultaneously hold three matches was located. She could be downstairs, but he first opted to search the left wing. Luck must be in his favor as he spotted her near the restroom, standing and talking to her friends who held a drink in each of their hand.

He recalled Reon’s advice on not coming to her when it was too crowded. Besides her friends, there were only two other people from a school he hadn’t seen before. It was less people than when the reporters were around, so it shouldn’t be considered as _crowded_. He would simply tap her back, introduce himself, praise her accomplishments, and leave.

“Exactly! I’m scared when boys older than me suddenly speak like they’ve known me for a long time. They even ask for my LINE? It’s—it’s just, ugh! I don’t even have a phone! The only boy that I feel comfortable with is just you, Goshiki!” she loudly complained to her black-haired friend. Maybe she didn’t realize that she could be heard by someone who was frozen still five meters away from her, but maybe she also did it on purpose to warn everyone to never come to her anymore.

“Hahaha, don’t say that. They only want to know the star of the day. I wish I was as popular as you,” a girl who looked the most mature—thus most likely was a senior—chimed in.

“I know, but ugh!” she produced the same disgusted grunt. “I’ve had enough! How many people have come to me since yesterday? More than ten? I can barely remember their name! My father told me that I shouldn’t let anyone flirt with me before I turn fifteen! I’ve never had a lot of male friends, so I’m not used to them! Anyway, I think they should stay away from me!”

The more she talked, the more she ruined Wakatoshi’s hope in getting to know her. He had no clue about her birth date, but people said that she was twelve. The competition was held in May. He was fourteen, but he’d turn fifteen in August. They could be separated by two or two and half years, but either way, he didn’t think it was a good idea if he followed his gut. He didn’t want to be another boy that bothered her and whose name wouldn’t be remembered. He didn’t want to cause any harm to someone like her, no matter how little it’d be. That said, he changed his mind and dragged his legs back to the waiting area.

“You’re already back?” Reon welcomed him before reducing the volume of his voice to a hiss. “Did it go well? You talking to her, I mean.”

“I didn’t talk to her.”

“Eh?” Reon sent a muddled look. “What happened?”

“It wasn’t the right time. I’ll wait until it’s the right time.”

Reon blinked in silence several times, eyeing Wakatoshi like his friend was an ancient riddle he could never solve. “I don’t get it, but okay…? You look disappointed, though.”

“I am disappointed.” Once more, Wakatoshi didn’t hide even a bit of his feelings. Honestly, he should’ve been glad that he’d overheard the conversation before he did something he’d regret forever.

Over the years, Wakatoshi silently watched her grow. He did his best to never miss a match she was in and every article written about her. He learned that she was born in December 22, which made her almost two and a half years younger than him. She loved to drink lemon-flavored beverage, but she’d been having less because her parents forbade her from consuming too much sugar. Her favorite subject in school was home economics because she could cook and eat with her friends. She wasn’t good in math and physics, but she never failed any of her exams. What she loved to do during her free time was play video games and watch drama, anime, or random videos on the internet. She practiced volleyball every day for at least thirty hours a week and her parents never forced her to do what she didn’t like.

She gave off the impression of a formidable sword-wielder princess who was feared, yet loved by her people, but just like everything mortal in life; she wasn’t perfect. Or, in everyone’s observant eyes, the people around her were the ones staining her spotlight with their inadequacy and inferiority.

In her first year, she lost the final match of all the major competitions that would send her to represent Miyagi at the nationals. The female team of Kazegiri Middle usually got into the top sixteen, so they were regarded as average at best. Since she appeared and became their main hitter, they leaped into the top two. Wakatoshi knew the same thing could be said about his role in his own team, but without him, they’d still at least be in the top four. His team supported him, while her team was clinging onto her. They didn’t deserve someone as good as her, but he had no right to tell her to change school.

Things got better in her second year. New members joined the team—some said that they were there because they aspired to play alongside the new legend—and the older players improved a lot, even her. It got easier for them to get through the games. During the semi-final of the All-Japan Tournament, she did eleven jump serves at the end of the second set and won the match, writing a new history in volleyball.

Her team became the favorite to win that year, until she refused to play for the final. She sat on the bench next to her female coach, ignoring everyone who called her name and begged her to play.

The pressure seemed to get into her nerves as she reluctantly joined the court at the end of the second set. Their opponent’s point was twenty-one. Theirs was seven. She successfully gave them another six within fifteen minutes until they eventually lost. The gap was too impossible to cover since they were in the final, facing a powerful team who’d retained the champion title for generations.

In the next match, once again she lurked on the bench. She let her teammates embarrass themselves as they could only get nine points, winning mostly because of their opponents’ fault. It was as if she wanted to teach them a lesson that they needed her and she didn’t need them.

All she said once she got out of the gym was that she didn’t feel well and that she’d just drag her team down. When asked more about why her fifteen-minute play was still outstanding despite her claim of not being in her best form, she only smiled and left for the changing room. Her coach quickly covered her up, disclosing that she’d been feeling lightheaded since yesterday afternoon. Her teammates were also inquired and the only thing they kept repeating was “I don’t know”. It was nice that they protected their ace, but everybody knew it was a facade.

News about her not getting along with her team began to surface. The proofs were abundant; she’d stopped doing high fives, no one besides the first years really talked to her during the breaks, she spent more time with the male team, and if they weren’t available, she’d sit alone while the other girls created their own cliques. Sometimes, she preferred to be next to her coach or teacher—something that most kids would consider very lame, pitiful, and tacky to do. She looked somehow exiled, but no one really noticed until the rumors were spread.

Wakatoshi wasn’t the type to believe in things before seeing it with his own eyes. He wanted to focus on the good things she did; like when she got into her senior year and made a smart decision of accepting the scholarship from Shiratorizawa Academy with her equally promising male friend who was named Goshiki.

Wakatoshi was thrilled. His heart was filled with excitement and relief. Shiratorizawa female’s volleyball team was one of the best in Miyagi and their school owned the number one facilities for sports. With her joining them, she’d evolve faster and better, and it’d be surprising if they didn’t win the nationals in her first year.

And finally—really, finally—the wait would be worthwhile. Wakatoshi would have a reason to greet her every day. He knew the players from the female team since they often traveled to competitions together or had a combined meeting. He’d know her too. There wouldn’t be any more walls standing between them. They could talk about volleyball techniques or summer homework while heading to the dorm together. He could visit her class, have lunch together, study at the library together—they could do so many fun things together. Both of them could rightfully earn the title of the best ace in Miyagi or even Tohoku.

He might be bewitched by her. He’d encountered countless female players, but she was the only one capable of tugging his heart. She was terrific and full of talents. He’d proudly call himself her biggest fan and even if her personality turned out to not be great, he’d still respect her as an individual.

At the All-Japan Tournament that year, he came again to watch his juniors and obviously, her. Shiratorizawa’s team was waiting for their next game in an empty gym with the male team from her school. A third-year middle blocker who’d played alongside her since last year suddenly appeared and snapped, calling her things that would’ve ripped her apart had she been present. More than thirty people heard every repulsive and untrue word uttered for her, ranging from how she was complimented only because people wanted to seek attention from her parents and that the reason why the boys defended her so much was because they played around with her.

“What was that for…?” Eita made a comment after the middle-blocker stomped away with rage—he wasn’t the only one, but he was the one specifically speaking to Wakatoshi. “So it’s true that her team have their back against her… The difference between their strengths is too much. It’s bad that they envy her over petty matters like that, but I can’t really blame them…”

“Do you envy me?” Wakatoshi asked, hinting at the fact that he was the strongest player in his team with a tremendous set of skills that can’t be emulated by just about anyone.

“I do,” Eita swiftly answered. “I admit that I’d love to have your talents, but I won’t hate you because I don’t have it. I’m happy if you’re successful, Wakatoshi, but not everyone can have the same mind as me. Generally—I hope I don’t insult anyone by saying this—but I think girls are easier to develop jealousy. Maybe she’s also unlucky to be around people like that.”

“She’s going to our school next year. She’s going to be all right. I won’t let anyone mistreat her,” Wakatoshi declared.

Eita frowned. “Do you know each other?”

The only person who knew about Wakatoshi failing to introduce himself years ago was Reon who apparently didn’t share the story to anyone. They graduated middle school afterwards, which meant that Wakatoshi was no longer in the same league as her and it greatly decreased the time they could meet. Like today, he could watch her match that occured at the same time as his old school, but he couldn’t always do it if it wasn’t on his free day. He had his own practices, homework, and other things to take care of. Approximately, he only went to two out of her five tournaments.

“Not yet,” Wakatoshi said. “I’ll know her soon.”

Eita sighed, faintly smiling. “Sometimes you’re so strange, Wakatoshi, but I know that you’ve been keeping your eyes on her. You drag me and Reon to see her matches. You read articles about her. You watch her on TV. It’s like you’re having a crush on her.”

“Crush?”

“Crush as in, do you like her?”

“I like her play style.”

Eita laughed. “That’s not what I meant, but… this is stupid, but are you perhaps in love with her?”

In love with her.

Wakatoshi remembered what his father taught him about _being in love_ , instead of just _loving_ someone. He _loved_ his family and friends, but he wasn’t _in love_ with them. Many people were mistaken in telling them apart.

Being in love was dedicated to only one person; someone who he wished to see every time he opened his eyes, someone with strengths and weaknesses he’d lovingly embrace, someone who he’d forgive no matter how much they’d hurt him, someone who would carry his last name and children in the future, someone who he’d take care of when they were old and could no longer run like before—someone who gave his life a meaningful purpose.

“I’m not in love with her,” Wakatoshi stated. “I can’t be in love with someone I don’t know.”

“Exactly, but maybe you will, Wakatoshi. Who knows? She’s the first girl that caught your attention.”

Wakatoshi didn’t know what to say back. He never considered his feelings towards her as something more than an admiration between one player to another. He’d never been in love before. He never cared about the girls who tried to get closer to him—he didn’t even understand the concept of “going out on a date” and “dating”. The only thing he wanted to do was watch her dream come true. He never wished for anything else.

After the long struggle, her team won the All-Japan Tournament. Wakatoshi could create a long list as to why they were more solid this time; she had a new and better setter from the second year, they most likely had practiced twice as harder, and she—as the ace—outperformed their rivals. As always, she was the one responsible for at least seventy percent of their points, despite frequently being guarded by three blockers. She should be granted the title of the queen of block-outs.

On the other hand, Wakatoshi was troubled by how the teammates who stabbed her in the back being all proud, as if they’d forgotten how little contribution they’d given. They hugged her, thanked her, ruffled her hair, laughed with her. The middle-blocker who badmouthed her a few hours ago was also one of those hypocrites. They only used her as a stepping stone and Wakatoshi couldn’t accept that. This would be the last. He wouldn’t allow the same thing happening at his school—her soon-to-be school. He’d be there to protect her. He promised himself now, but he’d promise her later.

But the next thing Wakatoshi heard made him question everything he’d believed in.

He was in his dorm room when Reon barged in, forcing him to watch the TV. The living room had more people than when they streamed an action movie last weekend. J Sports—not even a local channel—was broadcasting a live breaking news about her accident.

She was crossing the street near her house when a car struck her. The witnesses said that she was alive when the ambulance came. Her parents were in Tokyo as they had their collegiate competitions, but they’d left and flown back to Miyagi.

The road was bloody. The bumper was smashed to pieces. The crime scene wasn’t an illusion. Wakatoshi was numb from the top of his head and down to the tip of his toes.

An hour ago, that girl was still smiling while running around at Sendai City Gymnasium. She received colorful flowers from her admirers. She ate a bar of chocolate she stole from her teacher and bought a box of melon milk from the vending machine near the cafeteria. She said she wanted to take a bite of Goshiki’s bread, but she ate half of it and angered the boy. She almost cried when she achieved her goal of going to the nationals.

He didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t understand what the world wanted from her. He didn’t like the way his heart was freed, then squeezed as he watched her career grow and falter within a very short amount of time.

Everything went down from there on.

She survived the crash, but she had to be hospitalized from early October to mid-December. Her left shoulder was badly fractured that she couldn’t lift it high anymore and she was advised to stop playing volleyball. She had to skip the nationals that was held in January and without the main force, her school lost the first round. Many of her scholarships offers got taken off, including the one from Shiratorizawa. The last thing reported was that she’d gone back to school and continued her education as usual.

What could someone like Wakatoshi do to ease her burden? He begged his own coach to find a way to stop Shiratorizawa from canceling her scholarship. The coach didn’t have the ability to do it as he was no more than a regular employee. Shiratorizawa’s decision was understandable since they had limited spaces and they wanted the best seeds they could nourish. If she still wanted to aim for Shiratorizawa, she could do it through the regular route.

That was the moment Wakatoshi realized that her gift in volleyball wasn’t the reason why he wanted to be a part of her life.

There was one time when she bought her friend a can of cola and shook it hard before handing it to him. He innocently opened the lid while thanking her and what he got was an explosion of wet sticky brown stuff all over his chest. She cackled like she’d just watched the best comedy ever, but not for long before she got scolded by her other friends, coach, teacher, and even the janitors. She apologized while still laughing and that caused Wakatoshi to smile.

Another time, she kept playing while having a high fever. She was quieter and less incisive, but she managed to hide it by having a decent performance. Her poor health was found after the match ended with their win, where she collapsed and had to be carried to the infirmary. Her perseverance impressed Wakatoshi, but her negligence saddened him.

He couldn’t pick a word to describe his feelings, but he could create many ways to meet her. He could come to her school festival. He could ask Goshiki to arrange a meet-up. Or, he could patiently wait and let fate decide if they were meant to be with each other or not.

* * *

“Don’t beat yourself up, Wakatoshi. I’ve met thousands of professional players in my life and you’re one of the best. You should get ready for the next FIVB and Olympics because you’re definitely going to be chosen again. ”

Ever since Wakatoshi was a kid, Takashi’s words had always been akin to a lullaby as they could relax his emotions. He wasn’t close to any of his family members and his father was the only person he could trust and depend on. That was why he took an extra step by going to the hotel’s lounge. At almost midnight, there were still people walking back and forth, although not as many as a few hours ago. This way, they could have a long and proper conversation.

“Thank you,” Wakatohi shortly replied.

“How’s Sakurai doing? How’s his wife and son?” his father initiated another subject.

“He’s doing fine. I don’t know about the wife and son. I’ll ask him later if you want me to.”

“No need, Wakatoshi,” Takashi stopped his son, chuckling. “Is he saying something to you? He’s the nosiest person I’ve ever met. He always wants to help everyone, which is good and also bad.”

“He asked about what I’ll do after high school,” Wakatoshi skipped on commenting the last part because he didn’t have any strong opinion about it.

“Ah, what did you say?”

“I’m still comparing my offers based on the distance.”

“And?”

“He told me to think about the first thing that I’ll miss once I leave Miyagi. That must be what’s holding me back from moving out.”

“And what was your answer?”

“F/N,” Wakatoshi effortlessly said.

Takashi laughed from the other side. “I’m not surprised. You’ve been talking a lot about her. She’s a very nice girl. Her parents are great as well.”

“I know.”

“Do you love her?”

Wakatoshi felt his chest tighten upon hearing the question, but he managed to answer, “I’m in love with her.”

“How much?”

“Is there a way to measure someone’s love?”

“Hahaha, I think the easiest way is to what level you’re going to sacrifice yourself,” Takashi tried to explain. “What’s the biggest thing that you’ll do for her? Realistically. Don’t say stuff like you’re going to die for her or you’re going to get her the moon.”

Sacrifice.

He’d sacrificed his sleep to have a longer call with her. He’d sacrificed his savings to buy her the things she wanted. He’d sacrificed the time he could use for volleyball to wait for a message from her. He’d sacrificed hanging out with his friends because nobody else could listen to her story. He’d sacrifice more things for her, even if she didn’t love him back, even if she married someone else and had children with that person instead. He never expected her to reciprocate his feelings—he’d be thankful if she did, but he would never leave her for anything.

“If it’s difficult, it doesn’t have to be too realistic,” Takashi spoke when Wakatoshi had taken an unnecessary amount of time to be lost in thought.

Wakatoshi could think faster if his hope wasn’t limited. He always knew that one thing she needed the most, but he didn’t have the ability to make it happen. If someone offered him a one-way ticket to travel back in time while retaining his memories of loving her, he wouldn’t think twice to take it. It’d all be worth it because then, her happiness was guaranteed.

“Whenever she’s feeling sad about not being able to play volleyball, I wish I could trade places with her,” Wakatoshi began. “If I’m the one feeling the pain, she won’t have to cry.”

“You mean… you want to be the one having the accident instead?”

“If I could, then I would. Is that too much?”

“It’s not—it’s not too much, Wakatoshi,” Takashi said, almost tripping over his words. “She’s an important person to you and you love her a lot, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Okay… you do… Now listen, Japan men’s team is very mediocre. Compared to the women team, the men’s is pathetic. Maybe one day you’ll be scouted by another country, but we need to see what lies right in front of us,” Takashi paused to exhale. “What I want to say is that you can play volleyball anywhere, but you can’t find F/N everywhere.”

Wakatoshi got silent.

“However,” Takashi continued. “There isn’t any V. League club in Sendai. No matter which club you choose, the distance still exists. Now do you understand what you have to do?”

Wakatoshi’s eyes narrowed. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H-hi.
> 
> Did you like it?
> 
> I hope you did.
> 
> I had to leave out so many scenes, but I’ll figure out a way to put them here…
> 
> -///-
> 
> Uh………
> 
> My wrist was hurting so much when I wrote this. I know you guys are disappointed at me because I haven’t been updating as much as last year and many of you have probably dropped this fic. ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)
> 
> But to those of you who stay, this is what you’ve been waiting for. ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)
> 
> If I don’t get at least 20 comments from 20 different people (especially my old and lovely readers), I’ll get sad, cry, feel underappreciated, and this series will be discontinued forever. I’m not kidding. If you follow me on Twitter, you know that I’m all over BNHA now. ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I still wish you all a nice weekend and kindly inform that the next ~~many~~ chapters will be about Waka. Ciao~ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Author's Note:**

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